


Accidentally in marriage

by guety



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Universe, Drunken Shenanigans, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Yuuri's self deprecation, except they are indeed married for real, yuuri's pterodactyl screeches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-10-12 06:11:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10483920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guety/pseuds/guety
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki, one of the dime-a-dozen top figure skaters certified by the JSF, ends in last place at his first Grand Prix Final after bombing his performance. When he thinks things couldn't get worse, he wakes up absolutely hangovered in an unknown hotel room with no recollection of what happened the previous night.Next to him is his idol Victor Nikiforov, now legally his husband.





	1. Blame it on the Cha Cha Chá

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was inspired by an anon ask on @randomsplashes on tumblr, who said:  
> "do you know if there's an au where Viktor and Yuuri at the banquet and, in their very drunken state, decide "omg this person has got to be the love of my life! let's go get married!!!" and they just head off somewhere and no one stops them cause they are thinking "they are probably going to bed". and the next day they wake up married and confused in front of some chapel like "wth..." "  
> As soon as I read the post I knew I had to write something and this came out! I hope the aforementioned anon finds this and, if they do, they enjoy!! Thank you so much Anon, I'm having a lot of fun writing this :D 
> 
> Before you star reading, please have in mind that Yuuri is a very unrealiable narrator, so don't believe everything he thinks. Also, I know in most parts of the world you need several documents to get married and you can't just drunkenly bribe a random priest in the middle of the night but. This is the yoi world so let's pretend spontaneous weddings under the effect of alcohol are a thing in Sochi. 
> 
> And last but not least, a very huge thanks to my beta reader Semantics for being awesome and making sure I don't put a million commas.

There was a faint yet insistent sound in the background, bleeping mercilessly. Yuuri fought it, clinging to the last remnants of sleep. He was dreaming of something important - he wasn't sure what - but it was just there in the back of his head, if he could just sleep five minutes more...

The sound stopped. Just as Yuuri was dozing off again it resumed. Groaning, he opened his eyes. He felt like he had been run over by a truck and then someone had filled his body with lead before throwing him into the dumpster. He did kind of smell like dumpster. The sound insisted. Yuuri reluctantly moved, trying to locate the source.  He found the offender on the floor, vibrating furiously. He picked it up, sliding his finger on the screen to take the call without bothering to check the caller ID.

He was greeted by the voice of what sounded like a man in his 60s or 70s, yelling in a foreign language. Yuuri's brain suggested it might be Russian.

"Um, hello?" He interrupted in English, and was shocked by how raspy and deep his voice sounded. His throat was sore. "Who is this?"

The voice paused. "Vitya?"

"No?"

"Are you Yuuri Katsuki?" The voiced inquired again.

"Um, yes?" Shouldn't that be obvious? He was calling Yuuri's phone after all.

"Is Victor there?"

"What? No…" The only Victor he knew had just won his 5th consecutive GPF gold medal and Yuuri had never spoken to him. The person on the phone was speaking in pretty correct, if accented, English, but Yuuri wasn't understanding any more of it than when he spoke Russian a moment ago.

"Look son, I'll find a way to fix this mess you got yourselves into but I need you to put Victor on the phone."

"I have no idea what you are talking about…" Yuuri admittedand hung the phone because he wanted to throw up. His head ached and he didn't have the energy to deal with whoever was calling.

He tossed the phone on the bed, blinked, and looked at it again. That wasn't his phone. His case was blue with a pattern of small poodles…not what looked like Victor's Nikiforov's free skating costume for the current season. Before he could figure out why he had a phone that clearly wasn't his, another loud sound filled the room. It was an Italian song, the one that Phichit had chosen as Celestino's ringtone on Yuuri’s phone. Simultaneously, something moved under the sheets, and a muffled voiced spoke in a language that, once again, sounded like Russian. The duvet got tossed aside, revealing a very naked, very attractive man who Yuuri had been chasing after for years.

The high pitched screech Yuuri emitted barely sounded human.

Victor Nikiforov murmured something in Russian again and opened his eyes slowly. Yuuri just stood there, speechless, gasping like an idiot. Victor seemed to notice Yuuri and turned to look directly at him, resting his weight on his elbow. "Hello there," He winked.

"I- ah, ummm, hello?" Rational speech had seemingly left Yuuri long ago.

Yuuri's phone - or at least he thought it was his phone this time - kept ringing.

"Is that yours?" Victor sat on the bed, yawning. "Could you do me a favor and get it? I have a headache. Must be around here…" He kneeled on the bed, on all fours, and crouched down to look for Yuuri's phone among the pile of sheets and clothes next to the bed. Doing so offered Yuuri a perfect close-up of his naked ass. He would have covered his eyes if he wasn't way too shocked to react. "Here! There you go," He handed the phone, now silent, to Yuuri. "Sorry, I think they hung up."

Yuuri tried to say thanks but only a whiny sound came out. Victor smiled warmly at him, making Yuuri's heart skip a beat. The phone Yuuri had tossed on the bed started ringing again, playing a beautiful melody.

"That's mine!" Victor grabbed the phone and looked at the screen. "Oh, it's Yakov…" He rejected the call, murmuring "later”.  

They looked at each other for a long moment. The entire situation was so surreal Yuuri had no idea how to react. He looked away, trying to figure out what was going on. That wasn't his hotel room, although it looked fairly similar… Was it Victor's? What was Yuuri doing there? The last he could remember from the previous night was Celestino dragging him to the banquet, after screwing up on his very first Grand Prix Final. He could recall having a few drinks and then it all blurred out. He tended to go off the rails when he got drunk. Had he done something stupid? He  hoped he hadn't made a fool of himself in front of Victor Nikiforov of all people. As if his disastrous performance at the GPF wasn't enough.

Suddenly, his phone started playing the first notes of Shall We Skate - Phichit's ringtone - shocking Yuuri and making him almost drop it.

"Go ahead, take it," Victor rummaged through an open suitcase - it must be his room after all - and disappeared to the toilet, carrying a few clothes with him. Yuuri answered the call.

"Phichit?"

"Yuuri!!" Exclaimed the familiar voice. Yuuri's head panged in pain. "Congratulations on your marriage!!"

"What?!" If that was Phichit's idea of a joke, it was a pretty weird one.

"Victor Nikiforov no less!" He continued as if Yuuri was supposed to know what he was talking about. "You really aim high, huh? Well done!"

"Phichit… I really have no clue what you're talking about."

Phichit let out a cheerful laugh. "Yeahright! Don't try to be secretive now, I saw the pictures!"

Pictures? He was starting to freak out for real. "What pictures?"

"Pictures of your wedding last night," Phichit replied, matter-of-factly. "On Instagram. Victor posted most of them, but you did too."

Yuuri forced himself to breathe in and out  slowly. "The last thing I remember from last night is being at the banquet..." He mumbled, more to himself than to his friend over the phone.

"Wait, what? Really?" Phichit sounded confused.It changed to concern quickly. "Yuuri, are you ok? Where are you now?"

"I don't know! A hotel? I think it's Victor's room," Judging by the sound, he guessed the aforementioned man was taking a shower, but he lowered his voice just in case. "I woke up and he was next to me, naked, and I don't know what I'm doing here." He explained, desperate.

"You banged Victor Nikiforov?" Phichit seemed absolutely delighted at the idea for some reason. “Wahoo, Yuuri!!"

"What? No, I d-didn't!" Yuuri stammered. Did he? Victor was absolutely naked when he woke up and Yuuri himself was wearing only his boxers. But that didn't necessarily mean anything, did it? He wouldn't just have sex with someone he had just met - even if he had been harboring a crush on said someone for half his life - while drunk. He wanted to believe he wouldn't. Losing his virginity with Victor had been the fantasy of his teenager self, but he would have liked to be able to remember it. "I wouldn't..." He bit his lower lip.

"Is Victor with you?" Phichit asked. Yuuri told him that he was on the shower. "Well, talk to him once he's done so you can sort things out, he might remember more than you.” That sounded sensible, except Yuuri didn’t think he’d be able to have a casual chat with Victor Nikiforov about whatever had lead them to wake up in the same bed. “Call me later, ok? You should probably call Ciao Ciao too." Yuuri promised to do so and Phichit cut the call after a final "And don't panic!"

Don't panic? How was he supposed to not panic when he had possibly ruined his entire life in less than two days?

Sitting on the bed, he opened his Instagram. He barely had to scroll down his feed before he found the pictures his friend was talking about. All 11 of them. The oldest one, posted on Victor's account the previous night just past midnight, depicted both Victor and Yuuri smiling at the camera, with the caption "just engaged! So happy with the love of my life!" and a lot of heart emoticons. The rest of photos escalated from there, showing them at various places - in front of a church, inside the church, kissing - as well as a close up of what looked like a marriage license between Yuuri Katsuki and Victor Nikiforov. He and Victor. _Married._

He screamed.

A few seconds later, Victor came out of the toilet, wearing only underwear and a t-shirt, his hair wet.

"Um, are you ok?" He sounded worried.

"No! I, we, last night," He knew he was stuttering, but he couldn't seem to form a proper sentence. "Look!" He shoved his phone into Victor's hands. Victor took it and briefly looked at the pictures.

"Haha, yeah I guess we did get married," He said casually, like drunkenly marrying a total stranger was a normal occurrence for him. Maybe it was. The thought made Yuuri feel nauseous again.

"You guess?!" He squeaked and immediately after covered his mouth. Great. Now he had yelled at Victor. In case he hadn't made a terrible impression on his idol already.

"Don't worry, Yakov knows good lawyers and my agent is excellent at her job," Victor said reassuringly while putting some pants on. "This might hurt our public image, but they'll know how to deal with it." Their public image. Yuuri had totally forgotten about that. If his reputation as a skater hadn't been ruined after what had been one of the worst performances of his senior career, it had to be now. Thousands, maybe millions, of people had probably seen those pictures already, and they'd surely think he had been fooling around right after screwing up on his very first Grand Prix Final. And they would be right - even if Yuuri hadn't plan to get drunk and barely even remembered any of it. The judges would never take him seriously again, and Yuuri couldn't blame them. Who would, when he was such an inconsistent skater and apparently unable to behave like a normal person during formal banquets? And Victor... He was a celebrity with millions of fans, the majority of which would kill to spend a night with him, if the comments on his social network profiles were anything to go by. Yuuri was sure those fans wouldn't be very happy to know he was suddenly married to a dime-a-dozen Japanese skater with no appeal whatsoever. They'd think he had seduced Victor to scoop out the competition. They'd think he had tricked him somehow, taken advantage of him. They'd say he didn't deserve Victor and, of course, they'd be right.

He didn't realize he wasn't breathing until Victor kneeled in front of him, placing a hand on Yuuri's shoulder.

"Yuuri," He started softly, and Yuuri was surprised that Victor actually knew his name. "Breathe," He was taking even, measured breathes, gently coaxing Yuuri's body to do the same. "It's going to be all right."

Yuuri tried to force himself to breathe with Victor, but that didn't really help to stop the thoughts that raced through his mind. "How can you be so calm?" He found himself asking.

Victor smiled brightly at him. "Well, I just woke up and I'm married to a real cutie, so I'd say I've had worse mornings!" He winked, and Yuuri just stared, blinking slowly. Somewhere deep down in his brain he registered that Victor Nikiforov had just implied he was cute, and he was sitting next to him on the bed. "I don't remember all of last night very clearly," He put an arm around Yuuri's shoulders. "But I do recall having a lot of fun, so no regrets!" He gave Yuuri a light squeeze.

Yuuri looked at the big, warm hand planted on his left shoulder, then turned his head to the right, to the bright blue eyes that were looking warmly at him. Eyes that belonged to a face he knew very well, among other things, because it was on the posters that covered all the walls on his room.

Victor Nikiforov, the living legend of figure skating, 5 consecutive times world champion, the man Yuuri most admire and idolized, who was like a god to him, the very same man was sitting next to him on the bed of a hotel room, hugging him, and apparently was now his husband.

For the third time that morning, Yuuri yelled. He jumped from the bed and all across the room, away from Victor, who was looking at him in confusion.

"Where are you going?"

"I, uh, shower!" He exclaimed. "I should take a shower, and get dressed. In my own room."

Victor looked disappointed and seemed like he was about to say something, but he was interrupted by a series of aggressive knocks on the door.

"Victor Nikiforov!!" Yuuri recognized it as the voice who was yelling on the phone a fee minutes earlier. "Get out immediately, I know you're there!"

"Yakov," Victor got up and stretched. "Give me a second!" He sing-songed, loud enough for his coach outside the room to hear. He approached Yuuri. "I'll deal with him," He said in a lower voice. "You should hide, he'll yell at you if he sees you." He grabbed Yuuri wrist and gently guided him away from the room's door. "Go take that shower, you can use this bathroom."

“But my clothes,” Yuuri protested weakly, too overtaken by the entire situation to try and argue.

"Right," Victor rummaged through his luggage once again, picking and discarding clothes hurriedly until he settled on a stripped t-shirt and a tracksuit. "Try this, I think they'll fit you." He forced the bundle of clothes into Yuuri's arms and gently pushed him towards the bathroom. "Take your time, I'll be waiting." He winked at Yuuri one last time, smiling in a way that almost made Yuuri feel better, before closing the door behind him.

Yuuri carefully placed the clothes Victor had lent him on the bathroom counter, next to the sink, and locked the door. It wasn't like he expected Victor to barge in while he showered, in fact he wasn't thinking much, just acting on instinct. Somehow he felt safer with the door locked, isolated from the craziness that had taken over his life that morning. He could hear Victor and Yakov's voices from behind the door, talking fast in Russian. Or rather, Victor was talking while his coach was screaming his head out at him.

He sounded furious and Yuuri was glad he had taken Victor's advice and hidden in the bathroom. He surely hated Yuuri's guts right now. Victor had a very well-constructed image, he was loved by skating fans all around the world, and marrying Yuuri could have ruined that.

Yuuri stepped into the bathtub and turned on the water, stepping aside so the first cold droplets wouldn't hit him. Slowly, he sat down.

Phichit had told him to call Celestino. What would he say? He had to be angry, just like Victor's coach. Would he even want to keep training Yuuri? And Yuuri's parents…They'd see the pictures sooner or later. Minako and the Nishigori triplets were always up to date with all gossip on the skating world and someone would end up spilling the beans, even if by accident. What would they think when they found out their only son had drunkenly eloped with a man they'd never met? Even parents as open minded as his would surely be disappointed.

How was Yuuri supposed to get out of the shower and deal with all the ways he had managed to fuck up in barely 48 hours? What was he supposed to do?

He looked at the water stream as it made its way down the drain, and wished he could disappear with it.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've learnt that in Russia once you start calling someone by the diminutive, you stick to it from then on, so Yakov should always refer to Victor as "Vitya." However, I had him use the formal name here since he's pretty pissed off, but if I used it wrong, please fell free to correct me! 
> 
> Comments make my day! I have a pretty clear idea of where I want to take this fic, but if you guys have suggestions, they're more than welcome :D


	2. It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In all the years he had been competing Chris had attended several banquets, some more entertaining than others, but none quite like this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter!! I totally wasn't expecting so much support and comments, thank you so much!! I can't believe over 150 people subcribed to this fic, you guys made my day!! 
> 
> I'm going to try my best to post every 2 weeks at the most, hopefully even more often if life lets me :D

Four years ago, when he was 20, Chris had enrolled in pole dancing classes. He had been interested for a while, and he was glad he had decided to try: they were a great way to work out, and had helped him to boost the sex appeal on his performances. He had even installed a pole in his apartment, and was more than happy to occasionally give a little show to the lovers he brought over, but he had never showed off his skills publicly, only in the privacy of his own home or at class. It wasn't out of shyness in the least, there simply hadn't been an occasion to do so. He certainly hadn't expected that chance to come up in a GPF banquet, of all places.

In all the years he had been competing he had attended several banquets, some more entertaining than others, but none quite like this one. Sure, many of them had involved dancing, even dance-offs, but they were usually tamer. He was confident that two of the competitors - one of them, Chris himself, the men's single silver medallist - challenging each other to a pole dance match wasn't something that happened often at ISU events.

Even more remarkable was that the person who had instigated the whole thing was no other than the timid and reserved Yuuri Katsuki, whom Chris had barely ever heard speak despite them having participated in a few competitions together. It wasn’t like Chris has never paid attention to him, however. Yuuri wasn’t really his type – he preferred more mature, sophisticated men – but he wasn’t blind and could appreciate a nice ass and a pretty face. Chris had tried to flirt with him a couple of times back when he was single, just for the sake of it, but Yuuri had always outright ignored him. Truth was, he had barely seen him interact with other skaters, and he didn't seem to go to many social events either - Chris would know, he never missed a party. By all accounts, he seemed like the typical shy and serious boy who never let his hair down.

Chris couldn’t have been wronger.

Yuuri was a force of nature. He danced with a passion that couldn’t be attributed only to the 16 champagne flutes he had gulped down in the course of the evening - and he was good. Contrary to some guys who only shined on the ice, Yuuri was also a star on the dancefloor. He had challenged Yuri Plisetsky of all people to a dance-off, easily beating him with moves that Chris would had never expected him to even know, let alone be able to perform. Seemingly not satisfied with that, he had dragged Chris to a pole dancing battle and had been able to match his sex appeal, which was no easy feat if Chris dared say so himself. The way he slid and turned of the stripping pole wasn’t that of a beginner, of that Chris was sure, although the thought of Yuuri Katsuki practicing pole dance of his spare time was quite interesting. Truly, the shy boys were the most dangerous ones.

Yuuri had caught the attention of the entire room and Chris had noticed more than one fellow skater checking Yuuri out with little discretion during the performance, his good friend Victor “Living Legend” Nikiforov among them. He couldn’t tell whether Yuuri was aware of it in his inebriated state or not, but either way the feeling seemed to be requited, judging by how the first thing Yuuri did after getting off the pole was throwing himself into Victor’s arms, half-undressed as he was.

Since Chris had been acquainted with Victor for almost a decade and had shared many a memory with him, he knew the guy was an airhead, a dork, and quite capricious; however, the younger, less experienced skaters weren’t usually aware of that, excluding his rinkmates.  After all, he had indeed won every single competition he had entered for the past 5 years. All skaters respected him, most admired him, and quite a few were also intimidated by him. He had been under the impression that Yuuri Katsuki would be among that last group, but he seemed to be wrong on that as well, if the way he was grinding on Victor was anything to go by.

For once, he didn’t even mind having been mistaken about something - or someone. In fact, he was quite glad that Yuuri had managed to deceive him, because if he had known his true nature beforehand the scene he was witnessing wouldn’t have had as much impact.

Victor was absolutely frozen, in a way Chris had never seen him before. It was quite refreshing to ascertain that there were things capable of shocking even him, the master of surprises. He wasn’t embracing Yuuri back, but he wasn’t trying to push him away either. He seemed taken aback by Yuuri’s boldness, and probably confused since he was rambling in Japanese and Victor didn’t understand more than more basic greetings and popular dishes in that language. A little to the side, the other Japanese participant - the women’s silver medallist - was giggling quietly, and Chris took a mental note to ask her to translate for him what Yuuri was saying.

As if reading Chris’ mind, Yuuri decided to switch to English.

“Be my coach, Victooooooooooooooor!” He prolonged the last syllable like he was rejoicing on it.

Chris almost snorted. There was no way he could picture Victor as a coach, stepping to the sidelines and out of the spotlight to watch over and protect someone else. Yeah, right. No way in hell, no matter the stupid look he was giving Yuuri, like he was the most amazing creation in the universe. Victor was known for doing unexpected things, but his surprises were always related to skating: including three quads on a same program for the first time ever, then four, then landing the first quad flip in history…. He wouldn’t give up all that just to get in somebody’s pants. Chris was sure of that, no matter how unpredictable Victor could be.

Yuuri dragged Victor to the dance floor, and they engaged in a passionate and quite elaborated latin dance. It was a delight to watch. Considering they had just met, they were oozing chemistry, and it was obvious to everyone watching that they were both having a great time. They couldn’t look away from each other, Chris was under the impression that they had forgotten where they were, and that they were supposed to be competing. It felt more like they were trying to seduce each other, which seemed pretty pointless since they clearly had succeeded at that at least twenty minutes ago already. Yuuri ended up winning by a small margin, making it the first time Victor  had lost at something in a very long, long time. He didn’t seem to mind, however, which pissed Chris off a little. He disregarded the feeling, not being in the mood to analyze himself, and gulped down a glass of wine.

Someone in the crowd shouted that they should get a rematch by the means of a drinking fight. Chris didn’t deem it a very good idea, considering how blatantly wasted Yuuri already was. Yuuri himself apparently disagreed with him, and fetched two bottles of cava with an impressive speed.

Things went downhill from there.

For the rest of the night, Victor and Yuuri didn’t separate by more than two arm lengths. Chris could go to the toilet, get some food or just get distracted for a while conversing with the other skaters - and when he looked back they were still there, all over each other. At some point, Yakov had scolded Victor and seemingly tried to force him to either act with more prudence - Yuuri had been sitting on his lap for quite a while at that moment - or just go to bed. It had been in vain, of course, Victor wasn’t that good at following his coach’s orders. In the end, Yakov had himself retired for the night, sighing and dragging the Russian Yuri with him. Chris knew for a fact that it wouldn’t be the first time Victor took another skater to his room after a competition - although he didn’t think it had happened in quite a few years now, and never with someone in the men’s single field - so perhaps Yakov had just given up. After all, in Chris’ opinion, there was nothing wrong with having a bit of fun for one night. There were still two whole weeks until the Russian Championships, and there wasn’t another skater of Victor’s level in the entire country at that time. Having a one night stand with a Japanese skater he probably wouldn’t see again at least until World’s wouldn’t do any harm. As for Yuuri’s coach, Celestino, he had retired before the dance offs even started, alleging that Russian food didn’t sit well with his stomach.

As the night advanced and the alcohol run, they got progressively sappier and sappier, to the point it would be enervating if it wasn’t so hilarious. For the last hour they had been having a very intense conversation, Yuuri completely draped over Victor. Chris figured they really liked each other’s voices. It was unlikely that they were actually understanding what the other was saying considering they were speaking in their respective first languages, and he was positive that Victor at least wasn’t fluent in Japanese at all. He guessed maybe Yuuri did speak Russian, but if he did it didn’t make much sense that he kept replying in Japanese instead of doing the logical thing and switch to a language Victor would comprehend. Then again, he didn't seem quite fit for rational thinking at the moment. Besides, the few times in which they remembered to talk in English didn’t do much to improve the quality of their dialogue, as they were short exchanges that went more or less like this:

“Your free skate costume last year was the bessst, your butt looked soooo good!”

“Really? Then I’ll wear it on our wedding!”

“I love you Victoooor.”

“Yuuri, I love you moore!”

All of that intertwined with multiple giggle fits, and then back to the Russian/Japanese mix. Of course, there were some moments here and there when they didn’t talk at all, preferring to engage their tongues in other activities. He had expected Victor to have a better kissing technique - he was drooling all over Yuuri’s face - but he guessed the massive amounts of vodka he had ingested weren’t helping much.

All in all, he had been able to compile plenty of blackmail material in his phone, so he figured it was time to act a little bit like a good friend.

“Yuuri, dear, would you lend me Victor for a second?” He interrupted the couple, putting a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder to call his attention.

“Huh? But Victor is mine!” He protested. Victor nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m only for my Yuuri. My. Yuuuuuuri!”

“Right.” He grabbed Victor by the sleeve of his suit and tugged a little. “It will be just a couple minutes, promise, and then he’s all yours for the rest of the night.” He winked.

Yuuri pouted, and reluctantly let go of Victor.

“I’ll miss you.” He stated, his words slurring, and poked Victor’s cheek for seemingly no reason at all.

“Me too,” Victor replied, and added something in Russian, probably a term of endearment. Chris wasn’t sure, the only Russian he had ever bothered to learn were dirty words. Yuuri got on his tiptoes to kiss Victor, who kissed back, and Chris tugged his jacket firmly to drag him out before he forgot he was supposed to go with him. Before leaving, he shot a meaningful look towards Leon, his choreographer and boyfriend. Even though he wasn’t really Yuuri’s friend, Chris wasn’t such a bad person to leave the poor boy unattended in a party after all he had drunk. Leon nodded and passed an arm round Yuuri’s shoulders. “Let’s get you some water,” Chris heard him say. He was the sweetest man Chris had ever had the pleasure to meet, Yuuri would be in good hands.

The banquet was being held in the very same official hotel for the GPF, which was convenient since all competing athletes and their teams were staying there. Chris guided Victor through the halls, one arm around his shoulders for stability, until they reached the rest area closer to the toilets. It had a few sofas, a coffee machine, and more importantly, what Chris had been looking for: a vending machine with all sorts of toiletries and other accessories one might need during a trip, for forgetful travelers. He made Victor sit on one of the sofas, and sorted through the few rubles he was wearing on his wallet. He usually prefered to use his credit card for everything rather than exchanging money when competing abroad, but his coach always forced some cash on him in case the need arose. And it had arisen.

He inserted some coins on the coffee machine and chose the option with more caffeine: black and double shot, with only a bit of sugar. While it was preparing, he inspected the adjacent machine. While it offered a wide range of goods, from toothbrushes to razors, when it came to products with a more intimate use, the variety wasn’t so ample. It would have to do, though. In any case, he was glad at least there was something to buy, even if it was only the basics. He used to always carry condoms with himself, specially when going to parties but had stopped doing so now that he was in a safe, sane and steady monogamous relationship.

Anyway, since it was Yuuri and Victor’s first time together and considering how drunk they both were, he figured a box of 6 condoms - fetherlite ultra, because he appreciated his friend - and a bottle of unscented lube would suffice. In all honesty he would be impressed if they managed to do the deed just once in the state they were, but better safe than sorry. After making the purchases, he returned to Victor’s side, forcefully placing the plastic cup of coffee in his hand.

“Drink,” He ordered. “You should sober up a little.”

“Aww, you got me coffee? You’re my best friend!” Victor leaned dangerously over the armrest.

“I know, I’m a delight. Drink.”

Victor took a sip. “This coffee is awful.” He grimaced.

“Well sorry, your Highness.” He kneeled in front of Victor and placed the condoms and lube on his lap “I got you this.”

Victor looked down at what Chris had just given him and back at him, blinking slowly. Chris offered a naughty smile.

“Hey, I’m not going to tell you to not fuck Yuuri, he’s pretty cute, but be nice to him and stay safe.”

Victor looked at him for a long second before bursting into laughter. Chris sighed. He didn’t really like dealing with drunks.

“I’m not going to fuck him,” Victor said between laughs “I’m going to marry him!”

It was Chris’ turn to laugh because yeah, right. “And does Yuuri know that?” He asked sardonically.

Victor sat up like he had suddenly reached enlightenment. “That’s right, I have to propose!” He discarded the coffee, throwing it on a bin even though the plastic cup was still full but miraculously managing to not make a mess. Chris got to his feet as well. Victor was beaming in a way Chris had never seen him before. His smile hadn't been so honest in any of the times they had stood on a podium side by side, nor when he was awarded the title Hero of the Russian Federation. Not even when he broke his own World Records for Short Program, Free Skate and Total Score in the same competition the previous season had he looked so genuinely happy. “Thank you, Chris!” He gave him a kiss on each cheek, still wearing that same ecstatic expression on his face, and dashed unsteadily down the corridor, the condoms and lube on his hand. Chris watched him zig-zag for a couple of meters before deciding to rushing to help.

“Okay Romeo, let’s get you back to your future husband in one piece,” He took him by the arm and Victor leaned on him instantly. “I don’t want to win the European Championships only because you injured yourself being an idiot.”

They found Leon and Yuuri sitting on a couch on the reception area, just outside the banquet hall. Yuuri had a glass of water in his hands, and was taking small sips.

“Yuuri!” Victor untangled himself from Chris’ arm and run to him, sinking on one knee. “Marry me!” He offered him the condom box like it was the normal thing to do on that situation and Chris had to stifle a laugh behind his hand. Yuuri looked frozen for a long moment, his mouth ajar and his eyes wide open in a expression that Chris wasn’t sure whether it was horror or just pure shock. Slowly, Leon grabbed the glass Yuuri was holding and put it aside. Smart man.

Out of a sudden, Yuuri was off the couch and throwing himself into Victor’s arms. “Yes!!!” Chris could almost see the exclamation marks. “Of course! Yes!”

“Yay!” Victor got up to his feet with Yuuri on his arms and made a spin in an impressive display of equilibrium. “I love you so much!” They kissed, full mouth on mouth - Chris didn’t miss Yuuri’s hand groping Victor’s ass. Leon looked pointedly at him. Chris approached the couple.

“Alright, congratulations,” He said, clapping loudly. They had the decency to stop kissing. “Now let’s go.” He pushed them towards the elevators, and Leon quickly positioned himself on the other side of the couple to help guide them as well.

Victor took Chris’ hand. “You’re have to be my свидетель.” He slurred.

Chris called the elevator. “Sure,” He replied, although he had no idea what Victor had just said.

Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long.

Chris knew Victor’s room was on the 9th floor, so he pushed that button and then the number 5, his own floor. Yuuri and Victor leaned on the elevator wall, giggling. Victor took out his phone. “Selfie, selfie!” Both him and Yuuri made victory signs, smiling widely at the phone camera.

When the elevator reached Leon and Chris’ floor and they stepped out, Victor had the audacity of giving him what possibly was the most disappointed look in History.

“You’re not coming?” He asked, sounding devastated.

“Um, no?” Chris blinked slowly. Sure, they had known each other for a long time and he considered Victor the closest thing he had to a best friend, but there had never been anything sexual between them in any way, despite what most people thought. There was a time when Chris had wished there was, but that had been long, long ago, and he had never discussed it with Victor. He certainly wasn’t expecting to be invited to a threesome - foursome? Was Leon invited as well?- with him and Yuuri Katsuki. Maybe if he wasn’t a taken man, he would have considered the offer, but tragically he happened to be in love and Leon and him had decided to be exclusive for the moment. Sex with multiple other skaters would require a long conversation beforehand. He was about to ask Victor for a clarification, but the elevator doors started closing and he really wasn’t in the mood to keep dealing with his drunk friend, so he let it go.

“That really was something,” Leon commented casually as they stepped into their room. Chris kissed him softly.

“Now you know the perils of being friends with a Russian.”

Leon chuckled. “Should we have walked them to their room? They were so drunk,” He looked at Chris with honest worry in his eyes, and he felt a new surge of affection towards him. He had been with many men in his life, but he was glad the one he had finally fallen in love with was a genuine good and caring person. Sometimes he wondered if he truly deserved him.

“Trust me, Victor has plenty of experience getting wasted at parties and surviving” He reassured Leon, and affectionately caressed his hair, putting it behind his ears. “Besides, I went to Victor’s room yesterday and it’s right beside the elevators, it’s impossible to get lost. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Chris got the answer to that question the next morning, as he was having breakfast in bed and saw the news that were circulating all over various social networks.

“Victor Nikiforov marries fellow competitor Yuuri Katsuki after the Grand Prix Final, fans weep.” He read out loud. The article was accompanied by several pictures of the happy couple, allegedly taken from their own Instagram accounts. Chris remembered the past night, including Victor’s proposal, and how he had assumed they were just drunk, silly and horny, and would forget about it come the morning. He didn’t think the engagement was for real, and he certainly wasn’t expecting them to get married that very night. He suddenly realized Victor wasn’t inviting him to a threesome when they were in the elevator, he was inviting him to _their wedding_. He scrolled down hundreds of comments of devastated fans lamenting the loss of the hottest bachelor ever, as well as some positive ones that were glad their idol had found happiness. He found decens of theories on how they had met and how long their romance had been going on, all of them mistaken of course, and couldn’t help but laugh. Oh man, if only they knew. Chris closed his phone browser and texted Victor.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *свидетель means "witness" (as in, witness in a wedding). According to wikipedia that's the Russian equivalent to a Best Man (it's the same in my country actually). Many thanks to Maiolaine and Verliebt_in_Traum for pointing out the mistake and correcting me! 
> 
> PSA: Giving cofee to a drunk person is a common practice in many places, but according to most studies it doesn't really help and actually makes it worse! Chris was honestly trying to help, but don't follow his example, kids.  
> I decided to name Chris' boyfriend Leon because according to google, it's the most popular name for Swiss babies nowadays and I like how it sounds.
> 
> Comments make my day and I truly appreciate any kind of feedback and suggestions! You guys can feel free to come scream at me about these dorks on my twitter (@idrinkmyfriends) or tumblr (@guety)


	3. Procedures for reaching a common agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri had enterntained many fantasies regarding Victor Nikiforov during his 23 years of life, but never in a million years would Yuuri have pictured himself discussing a marriage license that tied them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So chapter 3 is here!! I'm still super determined to keep posting more or less every 10 days. 
> 
> Super ultra many thanks to my friends Semantics and Zelinxia for respectively betaing my grammar like crazy and giving me feedback on plot/characterization as well as listening to my writing woes. Couldn't do it without you!
> 
> Yuuri's POV and internal screams are back, and I've decided to up the rating just in case, but mostly so I can write more freely without worrying about making it too mature for a teens rating.

Yuuri had fantasized about meeting Victor Nikiforov many times since he was 12. When he was younger, his imagination was focused on watching Victor - who had moved to the senior division ahead of him - perform live.  He had hoped to maybe get an autograph and the chance to tell him how much he admired him and how badly he wanted to skate on the same ice as him. As he entered his teens, the desire to compete on equal terms against his idol remained, but others arose as well.

He had always known Victor was beautiful. His skating was dazzling, mesmerizing, a delight to watch. Even when he fumbled a jump or made a mistake- it was uncommon, but it happened - he looked graceful. He was what one would call conventionally attractive too. From a young age, even Yuuri’s parents thought so. He had fine factions and sharp blue eyes that made him pretty and handsome at the same time. In his Junior days and first few seasons as a Senior his hair was long down to his waist and he often let it flow in a loose ponytail during his performances. It gave him a unique quality, like a shiny, silver shooting star following him around. 

When he was 20 and Yuuri 16, Victor cut his hair short. It was a drastic and sudden change that came as a shock to all of his fans - Yuuri included, of course - but it didn’t make him any less attractive. If anything, it accentuated other, more subtle, changes he had been undergoing over the years, none of them bad. His face was less round, his shoulders broader, the musculature on his arms and legs more defined. As a whole, all those features bestowed a new kind of beauty upon Victor, less ethereal, more concrete and real. They gave him the charm of an adult.

It was around that time that Yuuri realized the way he admired Victor’s physique wasn’t just aesthetically. He made his imagination run in a way nobody else did. The crush he used to have on Yuuko was platonic and a little childish; she was pretty and talented, and always kind to Yuuri. As a child, Yuuri thought that if he ever had to date someone, he would like them to be as nice as Yuuko, but his feelings were abstract. He never specifically visualized himself in a relationship with her and certainly never thought of doing anything physical.

Victor, however, incited very distinct desires in him. He made Yuuri’s body react with sensations he had never experienced, and he started noticing things he had never paid attention to while watching him compete, like how long his fingers were and the way his tight outfits would accentuate certain parts of his body. The first time he had a clear sexual fantasy with him, it was late at night and he was lying on his bed, restless and unable to sleep. His newest poster of Victor - a close up of his face while in practice - was glaring at him from his wall, and it just happened. Yuuri felt weird afterwards, touching himself while picturing his idol seemed dirty and obsessive, but it had felt so good. Victor was far away enough from his world that he could be a fantasy, yet he wasn’t a completely made up person. He was familiar - Yuuri knew the sound of his voice, had memorized his quirks and gestures. He could perfectly envision him, could imagine the way he would gently lead Yuuri, always pleasuring him generously - in Yuuri’s mind Victor was always more experienced and Yuuri himself confident enough to ask for what he wanted. It worked great for him, better than any other stimulus.

The erotic fantasies never stopped even as Yuuri grew up to be an adult himself but they became less frequent. He moved to Detroit and devoted all of his time and energy into skating and university, putting aside his delusional crush on Victor to focus on his admiration for him as a professional. He wanted to skate on the same ice as him. He wanted Victor to watch him, notice him. He wished to be Victor’s equal as a skater, to stand side by side with him and prove himself. However he never voiced those thoughts, not even to Phichit, although he suspected both him and the Nishigoris had figured it out without him explicitly telling.

Yuuri craved for Victor’s recognition and thought himself capable of earning it, even if he would never dare say it out loud. He never spoke of winning, but he hated losing. Sometimes, when his anxiety wasn’t getting the best of him, he entertained the idea of achieving a personal best on the Grand Prix Final and winning a medal so he could skate towards the podium, stand on it, and shake Victor’s hand as an equal.

In a way, that desire seemed more shameful than masturbating to the idea of Victor because he did intensely want to win, and there was a part of him that believed he could. It was presumptuous of him to think, even for a second, that he could be as good as Victor. On the contrary, he didn’t harbor any actual hope of ever having sex with Victor; he would never expect a celebrity like Victor to be attracted to someone like him. The mere idea was ludicrous and Yuuri was okay with that. He enjoyed the Victor of his fantasies just fine.

Never in a million years, not even in his wildest fantasies, would Yuuri have pictured himself discussing a marriage license that tied him to no other than Victor Nikiforov.

They were all sitting around a table in a very quiet cafeteria. Victor, his coach Yakov, two lawyers the latter had hired, Victor’s agent, Yuuri’s coach Celestino and Yuuri himself. Victor was sitting right beside him, his shoulder brushing against Yuuri’s, firm and warm. Despite the situation he was in, Yuuri couldn’t help but be aware that he was still wearing Victor’s clothes. He kept noticing the cotton fabric against his skin, and it seemed awfully intimate. It made him feel inappropriate, being dressed like that in front of people, but he hadn’t had time to go to his own room and change. As soon as he had gotten out of the shower, Yakov had dragged him and Victor out to the cafeteria, instructing Yuuri to call his own coach. Truth be told, while he hadn't been what one would call nice, Yuuri had expected him to yell a lot more. However, he had limited himself to glaring at Yuuri, as if studying him. Yuuri had been avoiding his gaze ever since they seated down, pointedly looking at his coffee.

The two lawyers, whose names Yuuri couldn’t remember, had been meticulously reading copies of the marriage license - Victor had found it crumpled somewhere in his room while Yuuri was in the shower - trying to determine whether it was valid or not. Yuuri observed them looking up things on their phones and making calls and grew steadily more and more anxious. To his left, Victor was quite absorbed on his own phone as well, seemingly texting someone. He noticed Yuuri staring and looked up at him, flashing a smile. Yuuri tried to drown himself in his coffee mug.

“It’s all legal,” declared Lawyer Number 1 after a while, with an air of resigned certitude. Yuuri heard Celestino sigh quietly while Yakov groaned. “The documents are all valid and in accordance with the law, and the person who officiated it is certified by the Government, ” She explained. “So yes, you are indeed married to each other.” Yuuri felt his chest tighten. He couldn’t even remember where the wedding had taken place. Apparently, it had been a 24-hours Civil Servant office that had a license to perform weddings on the spot, one of only three of its kind in Russia. Neither Yuuri nor Victor could recall clearly how they had gotten there.

“You could request an annulment on the basis that you were both unable of consent at the moment,” Suggested Lawyer Number 2, a man with a deep voice. “It would be faster than divorcing.”

“I don’t think you should rush,” Victor’s agent and publicist - if Yuuri remembered right, her name was Anna - spoke in the kind of soft voice that made everyone around her go quiet and pay attention. She was a woman in her early thirties, with short curly hair and an apparent taste for bright red lipstick. “The pictures you posted last night are already causing quite the scandal. If you get the marriage annulled because you were drunk and word gets out, it might make a big dent on your reputations.”

“So what do you suggest?” Victor asked very calmly, like if they were discussing what movie to watch that evening instead of vital relevance to both of their lives and careers.

Anna was lost in thought for a second. “If I understand correctly, you two had barely spoken before the banquet last night, right?” Both Victor and Yuuri nodded. “That might be a problem, have you ever skated at the same competition before?”

“Yes,” Yuuri and Victor replied at the same time. Yuuri turned his neck to look at Victor so fast he almost gave himself a muscle cramp. Victor smiled at him.

“We both competed at World’s two years ago,” Victor said in reply to Anna’s question, but he didn’t take his eyes off Yuuri. Yuuri opened and closed his mouth in absolute shock. Victor remembered him? Remembered having competed at the same World’s? It could barely be said they competed against each other: Victor had skated in the last group, of course, with Chris and the rest of the top skaters, and Yuuri had been in the second. He wasn’t even supposed to be there, he had only been sent because one of the two initial entries for Japan got injured a month before, and Yuuri was chosen as the replacement. His performance hadn’t been memorable either. He barely made the cut after the Short Program and got the third worse result on the Free Skate. He hadn’t participated in the exhibition, and barely been in the same room as Victor for the entire week. How could Victor remember him? Had Yuuri’s performance been so appalling that it had been ingrained into his memory?

“Oh, that's fantastic!” Anna clapped her hands together, getting back Victor's attention. “Then, my recommendation as a professional is that you should use this incident in your favor.”

“We’re listening...” Yakov grunted.

“We’ll hide the actual details of what happened and invent a cute story that fans will be able to sympathize with,” She leaned over. “People love a good romance.”

Victor shifted a little closer to Yuuri, and rested his head on his fist. “That sounds interesting, go on.” His blue eyes were shining, and Yuuri thought that he looked different than when he was on the ice: younger, like a less polished version of himself.

“We’ll pretend you met at World’s that time and you’ve been dating these past two years.” The idea sounded so crazy, Yuuri thought she was joking for half a second before she turned to look at him in the eye. “Yuuri right? And you’re Japanese,” Yuuri nodded, unable to voice a reply. “But you don’t live in Japan?”

“He’s training in Detroit with me.” Celestino supplied. “At least until he graduates.”

“Works for me,” Anna wrote something on her fancy tablet. “It’s quite far from St. Petersburg anyway, so we’ll say that you’ve been in a long distance relationship all this time, and you missed each other terribly, so you were so happy to be together that you decided to elope.” She tapped her finger against her chin. “I’ll write something more complete for you to use as an official statement so you don’t end up contradicting each other when people ask, but that’s the gist of it.”

“Wait a moment,” Yakov started before anyone else could speak. “If they remain married, what guarantees Katsuki isn’t going to take advantage of it to get a hold on Vitya’s money and properties?”

“Yakov!” Victor chastised, and there was real anger in his voice. “Sorry, Yuuri.” Yuuri shook his head, not understanding why Victor was apologizing. Of course, he hadn’t even considered robbing Victor of whatever fortune he had probably amassed during years of being an unbeatable champion, but Yakov’s reaction was completely justified. Everyone probably believed Yuuri had an ulterior motive to marry Victor so suddenly and, even if they were wrong, he couldn’t blame them for their suspicions. After all, Victor was a celebrity, pretty much a national hero in Russia, while Yuuri was just a mediocre skater that hadn’t done anything remarkable in all his career.

“Property acquired by one of the spouses prior to the marriage, or received during the course of the marriage as a gift, inheritance or through other gratuitous deals, belongs to said spouse,” Recited Lawyer Number 2. “So any properties and savings that Mr. Nikiforov and Mr. Katsuki possessed already belong to each of them respectively.” Yakov seemed to relax slightly, but Number 2 continued. “However, their income, including their earnings as skaters or any other job they might take during their marriage such as modeling, is included in the marriage property. Since their marriage license doesn’t specify anything, the default legal regime that applies to the spousal asset pool is the joint property regime. That is to say, in case of divorce, whatever each of them has earned during the length of their married would be added and then divided equally between the two.”

Yakov obviously didn’t welcome the news, understandably. Unlike Yuuri, Victor actually won titles - many of them - and those came with an interesting sum of money, apart from the gold medal. He had also taken part in advertisements before and had more sponsors. Logically, his earnings would be much higher than Yuuri’s.

“We can just redact a post-nuptial agreement,” Suggested Lawyer 1 before Yakov could implode. “Establishing that their incomes belong only to whoever earned them, to make sure none of the parties could benefit at the expense of the other in any case.”

“Can that be done easily?” Yakov inquired.

“Yes, as long as both of them sign the agreement.”

“I will sign!” Yuuri interjected quickly, much louder than he intended. Suddenly everyone seated at that table was looking at him, and he shifted nervously. “I mean, I don’t want to take advantage of Victor.” He added, much more quietly. Victor shot him a quick look.

“I want to make sure Yuuri’s interests are protected as well.” Celestino said, looking at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course,” Number 1 assured. “We’ll redact a contract that protects both parties.”

“I’m not saying that you two should stay married for all of your lives,” Anna intervened again, looking at Victor and Yuuri alternately. “Just for a while, maybe until your retirement, and then divorce quietly without attracting much attention. It’s not like divorce is a taboo nowadays, it's just a question of timing.”

“If Yuuri and Victor agree to that, how will it work?” Celestino inquired. “They train in different countries, are they supposed to move in together?” Yuuri looked at his coach, his eyes wide. What?

Victor put a hand on Yuuri's thigh. “Why not?” He was smiling, his eyes shining with excitement. “What do you say, Yuuri?”

“Huh?!” Was pretty much all Yuuri could say. What? Was he hallucinating or had the Victor Nikiforov just suggested it would be a good idea to live together?

“Absolutely not!” Exclaimed Yakov, who Yuuri was starting to believe was the only sane person seated on that table.

Anna chuckled. “It’d be more realistic if you did that, but you don’t have to. It’s the middle of the season so it’ll be understandable if you stay with your coaches at least until the World Championships. You can use social media to interact, post some pictures every now and then, say you miss each other.  In the off season, I would advise you to go on vacation together, or at least pretend you do, I have people on my staff who do miracles in Photoshop, so we can always just post some fake pictures.”

The idea sounded absolutely crazy to Yuuri, but then again the whole morning had been surreal.

“I don’t really see how that’s going to help,” Yakov grunted.

“All these years we’ve been building this image of Victor as the hottest bachelor, available but unattainable,” Victor’s hand, that was still on Yuuri’s leg for some strange reason - not like it bothered Yuuri, really, it was warm, although it made it hard to focus on anything else - tensed for a second. “And suddenly he goes and gets married, and he’s not available anymore. I’ve been checking social media since you called me earlier, and the fans are angry and disappointed - at Victor for betraying them and at Yuuri for stealing him. We need to make them sympathize with them.”

“Why don’t just tell the truth or say it was a joke?” Celestino asked. “Wouldn’t that  help with the crazy angry groupies?”

“Maybe, but it could just fan the flames by making them feel deceived. Besides, as I said before, it wouldn’t be good to their reputation. ‘Top skaters get so drunk they marry’ isn’t the most favorable headline, is it? Sponsors are more likely to work with a lovely young couple than with a pair of party animals.”

“I trust you Anna, if you think this is going to work, I’ll do it,” Victor finally removed his hand from Yuuri’s thigh. Yuuri looked at him. Was Victor really okay with everyone thinking he was married to him? In love with him? Did he really want to pretend he had fallen for someone so plain? Wouldn’t having terrible taste in partners be even worse for his image?

Across from him, Yakov let out a long sigh. “I guess it can’t get any worse.”

“What do you think, Yuuri?” Victor turned to him, smiling warmly. Yuuri didn't know what to answer. What did he think? Was he really prepared to lie to everyone and pretend he had been dating Victor for two years? Would people believe it? He was sure his family wouldn’t, and if they did, they’d be heartbroken that he hadn’t told them earlier. Could Yuuri even act like he was in a relationship with Victor for real, not just legally? Relationships involved things like dates, and holding hands, and if he had, to be honest, he didn't think he could do all that because just being seated next to Victor was almost enough to give him a heart attack.

“We don’t have to go through with the plan if you’re against it,” Victor added, perhaps sensing Yuuri’s hesitation. “But doesn’t it sound fun?” He looked genuinely excited at the idea, his eyes shining to match the smile on his mouth. Now that Yuuri thought about it, in all morning he hadn’t shown any signs of distress. Did he just not care about his reputation? Yuuri couldn't believe that. He had watched Victor in thousands of interviews and press conferences, and he was never careless with that he said. He always gave just the exact amount of information to get people’s attention without revealing too much. Victor’s agent had mentioned building an image for him, which made sense since Victor had been famous from a young age. Yuuri couldn't believe he just didn't care. But then, why? Why did he look like he was having fun? Yuuri couldn't understand. For years, he had thought himself an expert on Victor Nikiforov. He knew all his programs, remembered all his outfits, both the beautiful and the unfortunate ones, he knew his training regime, the kind of movies he liked to watch in the off season, even his favorite opera as stated in an interview for a Russian skating magazine in 2012. And yet, he didn't know the real Victor at all, the Victor that had just eaten crepes for breakfast and had a silly smile and apparently thought that pretending to be married would be fun.

What did Yuuri want to do? He didn’t want to disappoint Victor, who seemed so excited. Part of him wanted to use this chance to get closer to him, a bigger part knew he didn’t deserve it. He had always wanted to know him, but not like this. Not just because they were drunk, not at the cost of deceiving everyone else. However, he knew that all of what Victor’s agent had suggested was with his best interest in mind. Yuuri had already destroyed his own reputation with his pathetic excuse of a Free Skate two days before, but he absolutely didn’t want to sabotage Victor’s as well. Besides, this had to be his fault. He often did crazy things when he was drunk, and he had harbored a crush on Victor for half of his life; the whole marriage thing had probably been his stupid idea. He couldn't understand why Victor had agreed, but he didn’t have the time to think about that. He had gotten them into this mess, and he had to at least help to fix things. If pretending he was in a relationship with Victor was the way to do it, then so be it. He didn’t care if he ended up being hated for stealing him from his fans.

“Okay,” He said, trying to sound confident. “I’ll do it.” He could feel Victor stir beside him, but first he turned to Celestino. “Is that okay?” He hadn’t gotten the chance to properly talk to him in private all morning, and was still terrified about his reaction. He had seemed calm during the entire conversation, but he was probably just being considerate to Victor and the others and waiting to yell at him until they were alone. Maybe he didn’t want to coach Yuuri anymore, and that was why he had suggested he and Victor should live together. Surely, he didn’t want a pupil that was a disaster on and off the ice.

Celestino sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “I did tell you to loosen up and have fun, although I think you went too far,” There it was, the incoming scolding. He was going to tell Yuuri he should just retire, that he was resigning as his coach, that… “But what’s done it’s done!” He palmed Yuuri’s back energetically and let out a loud laugh. “This lady seems like she knows what she’s talking about, so if you want to do what she says, I’ll back you up.” Yuuri stared at him. Really, he was ok with it? Celestino winked once and nodded, which Yuuri interpreted to mean they would talk about it more deeply later when they were alone. He didn’t seem angry, at least, which was unexpected but reassuring.

“I have one more question,” Anna spoke again. “Apart from all of us here, who knows the truth? Is there anyone who could compromise the story?”

“Phichit knows I’m not dating anyone,” Yuuri suddenly realized. When he noticed Anna was looking at him, he clarified. “My rink mate, we live together. But he won’t tell anyone.” He rushed to add. Sure, Phichit had a penchant for gossip, but always in good nature and he would never betray Yuuri like that.

“I give you my word, Phichit won’t be a problem.” Celestino stated as well, which seemed to satisfy Anna and Yakov, who had been frowning.

“I assume your family won’t be a problem either?” Anna asked in the general direction of Yuuri, and he nodded. He wasn’t sure how was he going to tell them what had happened, but he was sure they would support him, and Minako and the Nishigoris would as well. At least, he hoped they would.

“I’ll make sure Vitya’s rink mates don’t say anything either.” Yakov intervened.

“It’s not like I tell them about my private life, they might even believe it!” Victor added good-naturedly. “Well, Yuri won’t.” Right. Yuri Plisetsky, the Russian Punk. The very same 15 year old skater who had yelled at Yuuri in a bathroom stall, making very clear that he hated him and wanted him to retire. Yuuri was sure he wouldn’t believe even for a second that Victor had been dating someone like him. He surely hoped he at least respected his coach and senior rink mate enough to not bust them.

“Anyone else?” Anna had been writing down names on her tablet. “Was anyone there with you during the wedding?”

“I think he went to bed before that, but Chris was with us during the banquet and he knows, he texted me a while ago,” Victor said casually.

“Christophe Giacometti?” Anna and Yakov asked at the same time.

Victor hummed affirmatively. “He says he’ll keep quiet for a ‘small fee’” He said it with a smile like it didn’t bother him at all.

“A small fee?” Anna, who until that moment had been calm and confident, made a worried frown. Yuuri started to panic again. If too many people knew the truth, pretending they were in love wouldn’t work.

“He probably just wants my Alexander McQueen leather trousers.” He sighed, like giving up some pants was the biggest tragedy and straightened up. “Don’t worry, Chris and I respect each other as rivals, he won’t jeopardize my career.” That was the most serious Yuuri had heard them speak ever since they woke up in the same bed a few hours ago.

Yakov let out a tired sigh. “Let’s just do the paperwork and get done with this, we need to catch a plane.”

There was more talking and sorting out details that went on for a while, although Yuuri couldn’t pay attention to all. He was too distracted by Victor and too much in a daze about the fact that it was all happening. Anna roughly made up a story about Victor and Yuuri’s fake relationship: how they met, first things they said to each other, what they liked to do together… Victor kept giving ideas enthusiastically and asking Yuuri for his opinion, but Yuuri’s throat was closed and he could barely speak. She said they didn’t need to make a press conference about it or anything like that, but they should expect many questions from journalists in the upcoming competitive events, and they should know how to answer without contradicting themselves or each other. She would also redact an official statement to publish on their websites and social media, which she thought would be a good idea in order to put some order into the chaos the Instagram pictures had created.

Meanwhile, the two lawyers wrote a post-nuptial agreement that covered any possibility they could imagine - Yuuri was really impressed they would do it so fast. Victor hadn’t lied when he said Yakov knew good lawyers and he and Victor signed. Their fingers brushed when they both reached to grab the pen Lawyer 1 offered. Yuuri froze, but Victor smiled amicably. “You first, Yuuri.” He offered politely, and Yuuri almost combusted. Was this going to work? The chances of him acting naturally with Victor, especially where people could actually see, were very, very low. He really did hope Anna’s coworkers were as good at editing pictures as she had said because he didn’t think he could take actual couple photos with Victor.

Once everything was signed and sorted, Victor, Yuuri, and their coaches went back to the hotel, in what probably was the most awkward cab ride in history, followed by an equally uncomfortable elevator ride back to their rooms. Victor and Yakov’s rooms were on the upper floors while Yuuri and Celestino’s were on the 4th, so they got off first.

“Well, so…” Yuuri shifted from feet to feet, awkwardly. Suddenly, Victor put a hand on the elevator door to prevent it from closing.

“Actually, Yuuri, can I talk to you in private for a minute?”

Yuuri was taken aback. “Um, yes?” He replied, unsure, and looked at Celestino, who nodded and started walking down the corridor.

“I’ll meet you in front of the reception desk in an hour.” He said before disappearing down the corner.

Victor stepped out the elevator. Behind him, Yakov grunted .”We’re leaving in 20 minutes.”

“Yes, I’ll be there,” Victor replied, distractedly. The doors closed; he and Yuuri were left alone. They stayed in silence for a short moment, in which Yuuri took a great interest on the nails of his left hand.

“So, Yuuri,” Victor started. “Let’s exchange phone numbers! Anna also said to follow each other on social networks, do you have an Instagram account?” Yuuri did, but he omitted the fact that he was already following Victor, and wrote his number on Victor’s phone. “I’ll text you,” Victor got closer to Yuuri, his hand finding Yuuri’s cheek. “We should get to know each other better, right?” The hand descended down the side of Yuuri’s neck. “Now that we’re married.”

Unconsciously, Yuuri took a step back, breaking the contact. His neck felt like it was burning. ”So we can act better?” He asked, avoiding Victor’s eyes.

“Right, so we can act.” Victor’s smile seemed stiff.

“Okay,” Yuuri agreed. “So…” He took another step back anxious. He had no idea what to say to Victor, and kind of wanted to go back to his room and change and possibly hide under the mattress forever. He anxiously gripped the t-shirt he was wearing, and suddenly remembered it wasn’t his. “Your clothes!” He exclaimed. “I should give them back to you, I…”

Victor waved his hand. “It’s okay, keep them, they look good on you.”

“What?” Was that a compliment? “I can’t keep them.”

“Alright, then you can give them back when we see each other at World’s.” Victor suggested as if he was truly expecting to meet Yuuri there. Yuuri, who had only gone to World’s once, by sheer chance.

“I haven’t classified for World Championships,” Yuuri said, blinking. He would need to medal at the Japanese National Championships.

“Hmm, but I believe you can do it,” Victor closed the distance between them again. “Your triple axel is beautiful, but you need to refine the spread eagle you do right before the first one. Your skating skills are good, but your transitions are boring; you have great musicality, you need to take more advantage of that….” Yuuri stayed there, blinking, as Victor rapidly shot a mix of critiques and advice. He was flabbergasted. Victor had watched him skating and actually paid attention to it? All he could do was nod because Victor was absolutely right in everything he was saying.

“Okay, I should go.” Victor pushed the elevator button. It came almost immediately, and he stepped on it, holding the door. He leaned down slightly. “See you at World’s, darling.” He whispered, close to Yuuri’s ear, and kissed him on the cheek. The elevator closed its doors, taking Victor with it.

Yuuri went back to his room. He opened the door, let himself in, walked slowly to the bed, grabbed a pillow, and screamed into it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, comments and feedback are very welcomed! I'm very grateful to all the good reception this fic is getting, it really motivates me to work hard and continue writing.
> 
> I did check all the legal stuff (except for the part about being able to marry so easily while drunk, let's suspense our disbelief for plot's sake), but please do tell me if I made a mistake. Same with skating things, while I am myself a skating fan and I've done my research, i'm not exactly an expert.


	4. You gave me magical, I’ll give you wonderful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m trying to say,” Phichit played with one of Yuuri's pens. “That maybe, quite probably in my humble opinion, Victor Nikiforov likes you. Or at the very least, he thinks you're cute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! finally, chapter 4 is here!! I'm really sorry, I said I would try to post every 10 days and it's been over a month... I've just been really busy with life. Chapter 5 will take a bit as well because the deadline for the Victuuri reverse bang is coming up, as I'm taking part in a group challenge and a fic exchange as well, and I need to focus on those for a little while. But! I promise chapter 5 will be done by the end of June at the latest! Btw, I should say that a good chunk of this chapter was written in Barcelona, at the same hotel where they all stay during the GPF :D
> 
> Anyway, I hope this was worth the wait! Thank you so so much to everyone who commented, bookmarked, subscribed or gave kudos. You guys make my day every single time! It's really rewarding to see that real people are reading your work.
> 
> Super big thanks to Meg/Phoenixrai for betaing this chapter in such a short time!! You did an amazing job, thanks!
> 
> Last but not least, just a heads-up that this chapter contains depictions of anxiety and spiraling anxiety thoughts. It's not angst and it's going to get better from now on, but some of you might appreciate knowing beforehand so you can be prepared :)

_All my career, it's always been my priority to surprise my dear fans with the best programs I could offer, but I never thought the biggest surprise of all would be my marriage. We both wanted to be discreet regarding our private lives, but after two years of our relationship, Yuuri and I decided it was time to take this step, and what better occasion to make it public? From now on we’ll continue to do our best to deliver wonderful programs, and we hope to count with your support in this new chapter of our lives. Love, Victor._

The statement had been published on Victor's Instagram and official Facebook accounts a few days before, accompanied by a selfie of both of them taken the morning after the banquet at Anna’s insistence, while they were discussing the legal details. In it, Victor had an arm over Yuuri’s shoulder and was smiling brightly, while Yuuri looked at the camera shyly. He had looked terribly hungover that morning, but whatever filters Victor had applied had done their work to dissimulate it and make it look like a tender and loving picture. So far it had amassed 8.381 likes and 143 comments on Instagram and a similar amount on Facebook, and Yuuri had read all of them. Some were congratulations from other skaters, but the majority of them, much to Yuuri’s surprise, were messages of support from fans, things like: “You make a lovely couple, I’m happy for you.”,  “Congratulations on your wedding and good luck at nationals.” or just a simple “Best wishes!”

It was a relief to see that most of Victor’s fans seemed to genuinely just want him to be happy, even if in private they were probably thinking that he could do better. Yuuri had been worried about how this issue would affect Victor’s career and popularity. Even if he didn’t remember the wedding, he was still responsible for whatever consequences it brought to them. He was used to being criticized, and he could deal with people’s hate, but he would never forgive himself if he became a hindrance for Victor.  He was glad that at least Victor’s fans seemed to love him more than they hated the idea of him not being single anymore.

Among the comments, there had also been some questions about whether Victor’s “Stammi Vicino” program had been inspired by their long distance relationship, which baffled Yuuri. Apparently there were people who honestly believed that such a masterpiece of a Free Skate could be based on someone as mundane as him.

Of course, not all comments were positive. In fact, a few of them were quite vicious. Phichit and Celestino had tried to convince him to not read them, but Yuuri had disregarded their advice. He didn’t want to lie to himself and besides, they didn’t say anything he hadn’t thought himself. They were all in the fashion of: “Katsuki doesn’t deserve you, he only made it to the GPF because he was overscored at NHK trophy. Can't believe you married him after that mess of FS.” It was the kind of backlash he expected as was used to, so it was okay. It wasn’t like they were wrong.

Yuuri had made an official statement too, although much more impersonal than Victor’s, limiting himself to issuing a press release confirming the wedding, as Anna had instructed. She had insisted on the importance of being coherent with his usual self; if he was normally reserved regarding his personal life and barely posted on social media, he shouldn’t change that now. “People will notice if you start acting like a completely different person all of a sudden,” she had said, much to Yuuri’s relief. He didn’t want to have to upload too many pictures.

Much to his surprise, Chris had also made an Instagram post about the wedding, uploading a picture of Victor and Yuuri dancing together - he guessed it was from the banquet, judging by the decoration in the background, but he had no memory of that moment ever happening. The photo had the caption “Congratulations to my good friend @v-nikiforov who just got married! Don’t forget it was me who introduced you to your hubby” and a varied collection of emoticons, including a winking face, a diamond ring, and some hearts.

Victor had been absolutely positive that Chris would back them up, so Anna had decided to give him the role of matchmaker in the story she made up regarding the beginning of their romance. Officially, they had met at Worlds two seasons ago and Chris, who was close friends with Victor and knew Yuuri from their Junior days, had been the one to introduce them. The following weeks, they had texted each other often and soon had started developing feelings, until they eventually agreed to meet in Detroit since Victor was visiting because of work. It worked wonderfully because Victor had actually participated on an ice show in Detroit that summer, as part of a tour around the USA. In fact, Yuuri and Phichit had been among the public that night, and back then Phichit had posted several pictures that proved it. Of course, they hadn't actually met Victor in person, but according to Anna’s story their first date had taken place that very same night after the show, and they had been together ever since despite the distance. It was a cute story, but simple enough that it was easy to remember and, more importantly, easy to believe.

Since Phichit was involved in the story and also absolutely aware that Yuuri had been single during all his years in university, that meant they needed him to back it up as well, but that hadn’t been a problem. In fact, he had displayed nothing but enthusiasm ever since Yuuri asked for his help.Too much so, in Yuuri’s opinion.

“It’s adorable,” Phichit insisted, “And it’s perfect to show how in love you and Victor are. Everyone will see know much you miss him when they see you dozing off next to his picture.” He spoke as if Victor and Yuuri were truly a couple tragically separated by the circumstances. Well, they were indeed living far away from each other: Yuuri had gone back to the dorm room he shared with Phichit in Detroit while Victor was training in Saint Petersburg, as usual. Anna had said that it would be wonderful if they could move in together, just to make everything more believable, but it was fine to be separated for now. Yuuri still needed to graduate, and nobody would expect them to change coaches in the middle of the season. It made sense to return to their respective routines, at least until the end of the season. After that…. Yuuri would think about that when the time came.

“No, it’s creepy,” he refuted. “And I don’t want Victor to know I have a picture of him on my desk.” The mere idea was mortifying; maybe it was time to get rid of said picture.

“He’ll just think you have staged it for the photo,” Phichit waved it off, like Yuuri’s concern was irrational. “Nobody is going to realize that the picture is a few months old, Victor will think you just took it for show.”

“Either way, you’re not posting it,” Yuuri sat down and opened his laptop, determined to do some university work and forget about any pictures. Of course, Phichit had other plans.

“Yuuri, I’m trying to help you.” He rested his chin on Yuuri’s head, hugging him loosely. “You just married Victor, you’re supposed to be in the honeymoon stage and acting all lovey dovey, and the only way to do that publicly while you’re on different continents is by using social media.”

“Yes, but Victor’s agent said I shouldn’t post more than I usually do or it would seem weird.”

“Which is why I will be the one doing the posting!” Phichit threw himself on his knees in front of Yuuri, his palms pressed together. “Please Yuuri, I’m begging you, I bet she will agree that the picture is great, call her and if she says no I promise I won’t ask again.” He gave Yuuri his best puppy eyes, the ones that reminded him of what a great friend Phichit had always been to him, that made him remember all the times he had calmed him down when he was panicking before a competition or when he had stayed with him to keep him company rather than going to a party with his friends from class.

“Ok, I’ll ask,” he relented. “But if she says it’s a bad idea, forget about it.” There was no harm in asking, right? Anna seemed sensible, she would agree it was a silly idea.

As it turned out, Anna thought the idea was brilliant and within five minutes the picture was posted on Phichit’s Instagram account, along with the caption: “Someone misses his new hubby… zzz @katsukiyuri #yuurikatsuki #victornikiforov #they’resosappyguys”

Half an hour later, Victor replied in a comment: “I miss you too, my love”  followed by three hearts in blue and purple.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Phichit commented affectionately, a hand on his chest.

“He’s just pretending,” Yuuri dismissed,  trying to focus on the draft he was typing. He had a final paper coming up.

“Hmm yeah but,” Phichit leaned on Yuuri's desk. “He did marry you.”

Yuuri frowned, unsure of what Phichit was getting at. “He was just drunk.”

Phichit let out a dramatic sigh. “Yuuri, I swear, sometimes you’re so…” He trailed off, biting his lip. “I’ve been drunk a few times and I’ve never gotten married, even less someone I just met.” He said it slowly as if explaining something to a kid. It was the kind of tone he used when he was trying to make Yuuri aware of when his anxiety was lying to him, but it seemed out of context. Yes, the whole marriage issue had made him freak out big time, but he wasn’t getting particularly anxious right now.

Yuuri leaned back in his chair and looked him in the eye. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say,” Phichit played with one of Yuuri's pens. “That maybe, quite probably in my humble opinion, Victor Nikiforov likes you. Or at the very least, he thinks you're cute.”

Phichit said quite a lot of silly and funny things on a daily basis, but that one took the cake. Yuuri let out a big, honest laugh, his whole body shaking with it.

“He doesn't like me,” He said, taking deep breaths to stop his laughter fit, and retrieved his pen from Phichit. “Don’t be ridiculous, he doesn't even know me.”

“But he married you!” Phichit insisted, seemingly exasperated. Yuuri failed to understand why this was so important to him.

“He was very drunk,” he said, not for the first time. “He probably didn't even know what he was doing.”

“But he seems like he's enjoying it, you said so yourself.  And he's nice to you, you told me he calmed you down when you panicked at his room and he lent you his clothes.”

“He’s just taking it as a chance to surprise his fans, and what if he's nice? He’s probably like that with everyone.” Why were they even having this conversation?

“Didn't he text you yesterday? And the other day too.”

“He wanted to know my parents’ names, favorite color and things like that. He's supposed to know those things in case it ever comes up in an interview or talking to someone who doesn't know the truth.” That was what Victor himself had told Yuuri in a text, and it made sense to him.

“Right.” Phichit raised an eyebrow, dragging the syllable in a way that let his exasperation show. “But what if…”

“Look,” Yuuri interrupted, raising his voice. “Victor is not interested in me and I have a paper to to finish, so can we just stop talking about this?” Yuuri bit his lip, realizing he was speaking way too loud. He lowered his voice and looked pleadingly at Phichit. “Please?”

“Fine, okay.” Phichit hopped into his own bed.

Yuuri let out a long breath. “Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you.”

“I know, I’m not angry or anything, and that barely counts as snapping,” Phichit replied cheerfully. “I know you're anxious about all this marriage stuff, I shouldn't have pushed it.”

Yuuri sighed. “You were trying to be helpful,” He smiled. It was hard to get really irritated at Phichit.

He went back to focus on his paper while Phichit lay on his bed playing with his phone - probably interacting with fans on some social network or texting Leo. It was nice just being there in their room, each doing their own thing. That was one of the things Yuuri liked about Phichit: he was possibly the most extroverted and social person he had ever met, but he knew when to give Yuuri space.

“Say, Yuuri,” he started after a long period of silence. “Don’t you want to know what happened, that ended up with you and Victor married?”

“No,” Yuuri answered immediately. It was only half a lie. “I probably just made a fool of myself. I don't really want to know the details.” That part was true, but it wasn't the whole truth. There were some details he did want to know. What had happened between him and Victor that night? Had they really had sex, as Phichit has assumed when Yuuri first told him they had woken up in the same bed? If so, that would have been Yuuri's first time, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. Of course, he’d rather it had been with Victor than a complete stranger, but at the same time, he hated himself for not being able to remember it. He hated that it had been only because of the alcohol. Maybe for Victor, it was just another night, but it was special for him, or at least it should have been. This wasn't how he wanted things to go with Victor. He wanted him to notice Yuuri because of his skating, to understand all the things he tried to convey with his spins and turns. He wanted Victor to see him as an equal, wanted to coexist in the same world he lived. A tiny part of his brain was delighted that Victor had found him attractive enough to want to spend a night with him, even if it was just because of the alcohol, but the rest of his being was overcome with the humiliation of knowing that that was the only thing Victor had wanted from him. That he was only a drunk boy at a banquet that Victor had married by mistake and was now forced to stick with for publicity. That he had shared a most intimate moment with Victor, and it hadn't meant anything.

Phichit had said that maybe Victor liked him. Yuuri knew that was ridiculous. Part of him wanted it to be true. Part of him wanted to know if there was another reason, besides the alcohol, why Victor had married him, wanted to know how Victor remembered that Yuuri had competed at the same World Championships as him, two seasons ago. He desperately needed to understand the reason why Victor had given him skating advice, needed to know if he had been watching, if he had understood, despite all the mistakes that Yuuri made.

But he was too scared. Maybe if he could pretend that if had all been a drunken joke, that nothing real had happened between Victor and him, then when it all ended he would be able to walk away unscarred.

He didn’t say any of that to Phichit, but maybe his friend understood because he didn't press the issue. He just said “Okay,” and kept typing on his phone screen.

When he came back home from his daily run the next morning, a text from Victor was waiting for him.

“Good morning!” The message said. “How are you?”

Yuuri took a deep breath. “Just answer,” he told himself. “Fine,” he texted back. “I just came back from a run.” He looked at the screen for a few seconds, rereading his own words searching for any mistakes, before pressing the send button. Texting was easier than talking to him in person, but he was still hyperaware that the person on the other side was none other than Victor Nikiforov, 4 consecutive times World Champion.

The words “Do you run every morning?” appeared below Yuuri's message barely a heartbeat later.

“I run in the evening when I have morning classes.” Why was he even telling him that? Victor was probably texting him to ask him something he thought he needed to know about him or to transmit new orders from Anna regarding their actions in the following months. He was making small chat before going to the point just to be polite.

“Right, you're a student!” Victor wrote, and immediately after: “What do you study?”

“English,” was Yuuri's reply every time he was asked that specific question, although he always felt like it barely conveyed anything.

Victor sends two consecutive texts: “Is it hard?” and “Do you like it?”

Yuuri could say that it had been very hard at first when he barely spoke the language, to begin with, but that he had persevered even when it meant significantly decreasing his sleep time because he would lose his scholarship if his results were too bad and his parents couldn't afford his tuition without its help. He could say that it wasn't that hard now, that he enjoyed learning new things and that the satisfaction of understanding things he didn't before was worth all the hard work. He could say that he had discovered that reading a translation, even an excellent one, wasn't the same as reading the original work and that he wished he could understand more languages. That he had discovered he wasn't too bad at translating, that he had seriously considered doing it for a living if skating didn't work out for him. But Victor didn't care about those things, so he only said: “It’s OK.”

Victor didn't text anything else for a while, making Yuuri wonder why wasn't he getting to the point. Maybe he had just wanted to ask Yuuri what was he studying from the beginning? That sounded like something a husband should know. However, 7 minutes after Yuuri's last message, his phone vibrated again.

“How’s your training going?”

Yuuri took off his glasses, threw them on the bed along with his phone, and pressed his face against the pillow. How was he supposed to answer that? His training was going awfully. Every time he stepped on the ice, he could only think of his appalling performance at the GPF. When he spun, he could feel the disapproval of Victor’s fans and his concentration was shattered. His jumps were a mess. He kept taking the wrong edge on the triple lutz, he under-rotated half of his jumps, and he couldn't land a single quad. He found it hard to focus on anything except the intense feeling of disappointment that filled him. Celestino often told him that he wasn't landing his quadruples because he didn't believe he could, and he was right.

There was no way he could tell Victor all those things, even in a text. Yes, he had already realized that Yuuri was mediocre at best, but he didn't need to be aware of what a mess he truly was. However, he didn't want to actively lie to him either.

“As usual,” He ended up replying, which seemed neutral enough. He briefly considered asking Victor about his training as well, even if to was just to be polite and divert the conversation away from him, but it seemed like such a stupid question. He hadn’t had any relevant injuries in the past three years, had just broken a World Record on his Free Skate and his ratio of clean programs per season was as impressive as ever. Or course his training were going well.

“How’s your 4S going?” Yuuri sighed, dragging his hand over his face. Of course, Victor had to ask about the quadruple Salchow. During the training leading up to the start of the current season, his landing ratio had improved significantly, so Celestino and he had agreed that it was time to incorporate the jump on both of his programs for the season. However, that had turned out to be a mistake, as he hadn’t managed a clean landing on competition so far. In the NHK Trophy and Skate America, he had over-rotated and touched the ice both times, a bad start that had culminated with him falling on his ass spectacularly during the GPF. “Your entrance is good, but you need a tighter air position,” Victor added after a short while. Yuuri knew that. He understood all of his mistakes and what he was supposed to do, at least in theory, that didn’t mean he could make his body move the way he needed it to. “Trust your knees, they can take you.”

“Sorry, I need to go to class.” Yuuri lied to end the conversation. He suddenly felt so inadequate. He finally understood why Victor was texting him. Of course, he needed Yuuri to improve his performance for Worlds. Who would want to have a husband that couldn’t even finish a program without some nasty falls?

“Have a nice day!” Victor replied, followed by a stream of smiling faces. Yuuri put his phone on silent mode, stuffed it in his backpack, and pretty much forgot about it as he got ready for practice.

That afternoon’s practice went terribly, even worse that the past few days. Yuuri couldn’t focus. As he practiced his routine, turn after turn, spin after spin, he couldn’t find any sense on it. Why was he still skating? Why had he come all this way? He had wanted to skate alongside Victor, to make him aware of his existence. He had been chasing after him for years, and now Victor was among his phone contacts and it was meaningless. He was just the stupid drunk boy he had married by accident, just a skater with mediocre skills that wasn’t good enough for him and would taint his good reputation. He wasn’t sure if it was okay for him to continue skating competitively.

He thought of his family, who had supported him when he decided to move to Detroit, even if it made a dent in the family savings. He couldn’t bear to lie to them on a matter such as his marriage, so he had told them the truth, or part of it at least. He had explained it to them as a publicity strategy and promised to tell in more detail when he went back home. His parents, good and honest people as they were, believed him, his mother saying that she didn’t mind as long as he was happy and that he had gotten himself a really nice looking husband. His sister had seemed suspicious on their skype call, but she hadn’t pressed the issue. Yuuri thought of Vicchan, and how he had failed him. The little poodle had always supported him, always cheered him up whenever he felt discouraged, and Yuuri hadn’t even been with him in his last moments. He hadn’t even been able to win a medal for him.

Yuuri skated backward, speeding up, and jumped. Right as he was launching himself into the air, he knew he wouldn’t land it, and after four rotations, his body slammed against the ice.

“Yuuri, are you okay?” Both Celestino and Phichit, who had been going through the latter’s routine on the opposite side of the rink, skated towards him.

“I’m okay,” He said, raising to his feet, and for once he wasn’t lying. His butt was hurting, but it wasn’t too bad and he didn’t think he had sprained anything. He moved his ankles tentatively and was relieved to see there was no pain. “Nothing broken, it’s okay.”

Celestino frowned. “You should take a break anyway, you’re not focusing today.”

“No, I’m fine,” Yuuri insisted. He knew he was being awful lately, but he wouldn’t get better by resting.

His coach sighed. “Phichit, keep practicing your spins,” He instructed, giving him a pointed look. Phichit hesitated for a second before skating away to the other side of the rink.

Once they were alone - as much as they could be in the middle of a practice session - Celestino put a hand on Yuuri’s shoulder, warm and gentle. “Yuuri, I know your GPF results weren’t what you wanted, but you can get over this. You still have two major international competitions this season besides the National Championships, that’s plenty of occasions to redeem yourself. You just need to shake off this slump.”

“I know,” Yuuri answered, although it was an empty answer.

“Is this about your marriage? I know it makes you anxious.” As usual, Celestino preferred straightforwardness over tact.

“That’s not it,” Yuuri muttered.

“Yuuri, listen to me,” Celestino continued. “I know you don’t want to take advantage of him, but you should. Or at least, take advantage of the situation,” He advised, looking at him in the eye. Yuuri returned the gaze, unsure of how to respond. “Victor is the greatest skater in the history of this sport. If anything, you can use him to boost your popularity. You have little to lose and a lot to win.” He talked as if he was speaking common sense, but Yuuri was baffled. Maybe Victor’s fans were okay with the marriage if that made their beloved Victor happy, but that didn’t mean they liked Yuuri. In fact, he was pretty sure most of them couldn’t stand him. How was he supposed to gain popularity from this? “I know he’s been texting you, Phichit told me,” Celestino continued.

“That’s not…” He interrupted, unsure of how that was related to his progress as a skater. “It’s only been a couple of times, to ask me things he needed to know. Phichit always exaggerates things.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Celestino said quickly, making a dismissive gesture with his hand as if that wasn’t the point at all. “I’m repeating myself here, but he is a great skater, Yuuri, there’s a lot you can learn from him and I don’t mean from just watching videos of his programs all over again.”

“I don’t…”

“Look,” Celestino interrupted. “Just think of how you can use this whole situation in your favor, ok?” He slapped Yuuri on the upper back. “Now take a five minute break, and then get back to practice!” He gently but firmly guided Yuuri towards the end of the rink, leaving him and returning to assist the other skaters.

Yuuri put on his guards as he was getting off the ice and slowly walked towards the nearest bench, letting himself fall on it. He felt exhausted in every possible way. He wasn’t too sure of what Celestino even wanted from him, how was he supposed to use this situation to become a better skater? He guessed it was true that marrying Victor would get him more notoriety, but he didn’t see how that was supposed to help him land his jumps or improve his transitions. Celestino had said he could learn from Victor, but how exactly? They were legally married, but they weren’t a couple. In fact, they didn’t even know each other. Victor wasn’t going to suddenly start giving him skating advice. Or, actually…

Yuuri glanced at his phone, which was resting on the bench. He took it and opened his texting app, searching for his last interaction with Victor. “Trust your knees,” Victor had said. It was pretty vague, but Yuuri just realized it was probably meant as a helpful remark. He couldn’t even begin to imagine why would Victor want to help him with his quad salchow, but he pushed that aside for now. He was still at practice, and his coach had told him to learn from Victor.

He got on the ice once more, skating along the border of the rink with increasing speed. “Trust your knees.” For advice, it was way too abstract, and he couldn’t figure out how to translate that into movement. Maybe it was supposed to be motivational, but he didn’t know how to trust his knees when he had never trusted any part of his body. Yuuri didn’t believe in himself, and he had never trusted in his body to bring him to victory. But he could trust Victor. Victor, his idol, the man he had been following for years, the face that decorated the walls of his room, both in Detroit and Hasetsu. Victor, who could probably land a quad flip in his sleep. If there was someone Yuuri could have faith in, it was him.

“Trust your knees.” Yuuri skated backward towards an empty area in the center of the rink, gained momentum, and jumped.

He rotated four times in the span of half a second, and he landed. Correctly, on the outside edge of his right foot.

When was the last time he had jumped like that, just how it was supposed to happen? Graceful and fluid, controlling every movement. He knew it hadn't been that long, but it felt like it had been centuries. Suddenly, he noticed he was smiling, and he couldn't remember the last time he had been so genuinely happy. He heard Phichit cheering for him from somewhere in the rink, which made him giggle. He felt like he could jump a thousand more times.

Later that night, he was lying on his bed in total darkness, Phichit already asleep. He tapped his phone and unlocked the screen. Saint Petersburg was 7 hours ahead of Detroit which meant it was 7.30am up there, and according to at least 3 different interviews taken at different points of his life, Victor awoke every day at 6.30 sharp to go on a morning run. He would be already awake by now.

“I trusted my knees,” Yuuri typed. “You were right, they can take me.” He pressed send before he could talk himself out of doing it.

Seconds later, a smiling emoticon appeared below his message. “I would have liked to be there to see it.”

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe they were only empty words, maybe Victor was just being nice, but the message still made him unbelievably happy.

“It’s past midnight here, I should go to sleep,” He wrote, although he wasn’t feeling sleepy at all.

“Good night, Yuuri,” Victor replied.

“Have a good day.” Yuuri switched off his phone and put it aside. He closed his eyes, feeling elated. His body was completely exhausted from the intensive training, and yet he wanted to run or dance, or just scream. There had been many times when he had been too anxious to sleep, but for once he felt like it would be happiness depriving him of sleep this time. It was stupid, feeling connected to Victor just because of something like that, but he couldn’t help it. He felt bold.

Slowly, careful to not wake Phichit up, he got up, grabbing his phone, and got out of the room and into one of the currently empty common areas of the dorm. He switched his phone on again, pacing along the room as he waited for it to restart. As soon as it was working again, he called Victor, not allowing himself even a second to think.

“Hi, Yuuri,” a very nice voice greeted him.

“Hi,” he replied, his burst of courage deflating a little. “Am I… Can you talk? Are you busy?”

“Not busy, I just came back from running,” Yuuri hear what sounded like a quiet laugh. “Just like you yesterday! Or it is today? Is it still Thursday for you, right?”

“It’s just past midnight, so technically it’s Friday already.”

“So, it’s something the matter?” He sounded curious, perhaps even a bit worried, and Yuuri couldn’t blame him. He was calling him in the middle of the night completely unprompted.

“Yes,” Yuuri replied and corrected himself immediately. “I mean, no,” He didn’t even know why was he calling Victor. He was like a god to Yuuri, certainly not someone he would call just to have a chat. Certainly, there were millions of things he wanted to say to him, but all of them felt too stupid. “Did you mean it?” He ended up blurting out.

 

“Did I mean what?” Victor asked back but he didn’t seem annoyed, just slightly intrigued, which encouraged Yuuri to not hang up and run up to his bed to hide under the covers.

“When you said you would have like to see me land a quad salchow, did you mean it?”

“Of course.” Victor’s voice was steady, reassuring. “I would very much love to see you land one in competition.”

“I’ve never landed one cleanly,” Yuuri confessed. “But I can, and I… I will, and I will go to Worlds.” It was the first time in his life he said something like, and truth was he didn’t believe it entirely, but he did want to go. He wanted to win. He had always wanted to, but he was allowing himself to embrace that desire.

“Perfect!” Victor exclaimed cheerfully.

“So, will you watch me?” Yuuri asked, and he couldn't believe he had just uttered those words.

“Yes,” He heard some shifting as if Victor was sitting down. “Japanese nationals are next week, right? Same as the Russian Championships.”

“Yes," Yuuri nodded. “Wait, you’ll be competing too! You don’t have to… I don’t want to distract you.” He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he forced Victor to get distracted during a competition.

“Do you want me to watch you, Yuuri?” He was being playful, almost intimate. “Be honest, please.”

“I do,” He wanted that more than anything.

“Then I’ll watch you like a good husband! Will you watch me compete as well?”

“Yes,” He said, sighing. He never missed Victor performing, hadn’t in 12 years, but he wasn’t about to confess that to the man in question.

“I’ll be thinking of you,” Yuuri wished Victor was being honest. Yuuri wanted to ask him “Why did you marry me?” But the words died in his throat. He was still scared of the answer.

“I really should go to bed,” He replied instead.

“That’s right,” Victor said cheerfully, “You should rest well, you may have improved your landing ratio, but you still have many other areas that need working on, you know? You’re gonna need to train harder.”

“I know,” For some reason Victor’s words, rather than making him unconfident, motivated him.

“Goodnight, then!”

“Goodnight,” Yuuri said back, “I mean, good day. Have a nice day,” he awkwardly corrected.

Victor laughed. “Talk to you later, Yuuri. ”

Ten days later, Yuuri was in Sapporo getting ready for his Free Skate. Due to his nerves, he had popped a couple of jumps and made a few dumb mistakes on the Short Program, falling to second place. He should be anguishing over it, but he was oddly calm. He scrolled down his message app while stretching. During the time leading up to their respective national championships, Victor and he had been texting almost daily. It was mostly short conversations, sometimes Victor offered some advice and others Yuuri asked for it by his own volition. It was barely anything, but it felt like the world to him.

He looked at their last exchange, which had taken place that morning. It was December 25th, so Yuuri had texted him to wish him a happy birthday, and Victor’s reply had been: “Will you give me a gold medal as a present?” Most times, the expectations only screwed up with his nerves even more. However, today he felt like he had no other choice but to win. He had been trying to prove himself to Victor all this time and now was his chance, so what was he waiting for?

As he entered the ice for the warm-up, as he talked about the last minute details with Celestino, even as his name was called on the loudspeakers, cuing him to get into starting position, he was erasing all doubts from his mind. He would win. He would go to Worlds and give Victor his clothes back along with a nice gold medal. Whatever the reason was, Victor had married him. Maybe if had been a drunk choice, maybe it was only a publicity stunt that would end in a few months, but Yuuri knew that Victor was watching him at that moment, and he would prove that he was worthy of his attention.

 

As the music started, Yuuri took a deep breath and started skating.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, comments and constructive criticisms are very welcome! I really appreciated the comments on the legal stuff in chapter 3, if anyone here is a skating expert, please feel free to let me know if I got something wrong. I'm a huge fan, but I don't know that much about the technical things and I don't have skating experience myself, so...
> 
> If you guys want updates or just a way to scream at me more privately, feel free to follow me on twitter (@idrinkmyfriends) or tumblr (@guety).


	5. We were once upon a time in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've heard of Yuuri's self-depreciation, now be prepared for... Victor's massive pining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been... 4 months since the last update and I'm really sorry about that! It's been a combination of me writing other fanfics for various fandom events, a 2 weeks long trip to Russia, and life being generally complicated.Also, this chapter was surprisingly hard to write. But still, I'm sorry and I will work harder to have a more regular updating schedule, I'm looking to update every 2-3 weeks. Thank you to everyone who has been patiently waiting until now and also o those who are only starting this story now.
> 
> That said, enjoy it! It's been the hardest to write so far -__-

Victor was a morning person. He wasn't sure whether he had always been like that or it was the product of a tight training schedule - said training schedule had started when he was very young - but it was a fact that he always woke up at the same time, just a few minutes before the alarm rang. Or well, almost always.

There was a phone that kept ringing somewhere near, disturbing his sleep. It was probably just Yakov calling to wake him up so he wouldn't miss his flight back home, nothing too important. He didn't need to pay attention to it, after all, Victor wouldn't miss the flight if he slept in a little. He was an expert at arriving at the gate just in time.

His head was pounding and that only happened when he got very drunk the night before, which seemed peculiar because he avoided alcohol during the skating season, except the mandatory cup of champagne at banquets and other formal occasions. Indeed, the Grand Prix Final banquet had been the night before, but judging by his headache he had had way more than one drink. Well, it didn't matter that much. He had more pressing matters to think about, like the fact that there was someone talking right next to him and was making it pretty hard for Victor to fall asleep again. However, right when his still half asleep brain was processing the implications of someone being there with him despite Victor having a private room for the entirety of the competition, whoever had been talking decided to finally shut up, and Victor stopped caring. His pillow was so soft and comfortable, he could deal with the world later. Unfortunately, the phone started ringing again.

"Five more minutes," He murmured, turning around. He knew he wouldn't fall asleep again, though, the phone had finished waking him up completely. Resigned to get some more sleep on the flight, he tossed the duvet aside.

Someone shrieked very loudly - judging only by the sound, Victor couldn't be sure whether it had come from a human being or some kind of animal in pain.

"What's happened?" He asked nobody in particular, and slowly opened his eyes, the light making him blink. Judging by the curtains and the furniture, that seemed to be Victor's own hotel room, and there was a young man in his underwear standing there, looking at Victor as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head. It was difficult to tell for sure without a mirror, but Victor was pretty certain he still only had one - at the very least, the throbbing pain he was feeling came from one brain only, so he guessed there must be some other reason for the boy's shocked expression. Victor hoped it wasn't due to him looking terrible just awoke, because this man in front of him looked wonderful - tired and hungover, and he definitely needed a shower, but beautiful nonetheless. He had a handsome face with big, slanted brown eyes, and his body was lean but muscular, with strong legs that could only belong to an athlete. _He is Yuuri Katsuki_ his brain supplied, _from Japan. Enthralling step sequence and a great sense of rhythm, beautiful spins, but tends to flub his jumps. He finished last on the GPF._ Oh yes, Victor knew this guy. He was at Worlds a couple of seasons ago, in one of the groups before him, Victor remembered having watched him compete on the TV screens in the waiting area. His artistry was as good as Chris', Victor remembered thinking that it was a shame that his programs put the focus on jumps he kept failing rather than on maximizing his strong points. He had easily realized that Yuuri was a fan of his, he could see it in the takeoff to his jumps and in some elements of the choreography that were a clear throwback to some of his earlier programs.

However, until the previous night, they had never talked. Victor had been curious about him, but it didn't seem like Yuuri had much interest in socializing. Victor had taken him for someone reserved, perhaps even shy, until Yuuri had started dancing in the banquet. Oh yes, the banquet. Victor's last remnants of sleep cleared up at once. Of course Yuuri was in his room.

Victor turned to look directly at him, resting his weight on his elbow. "Hello there," he winked, trying his best to sound flirty. This was his husband he was speaking to, after all.

"I- ah, ummm, hello?" Yuuri replied, evidently flustered. How endearing. However, as if to purposely destroy the lovely moment, the phone - was it Yuuri's? - kept ringing, which was quite irritating.

"Is that yours?" It had to be, that song wasn't Victor's alarm, nor his ringtone. He sat on the bed, yawning. "Could you do me a favor and get it? I have a headache. Must be around here…" He kneeled on the bed, on all fours, and crouched down to look for Yuuri's phone among the pile of sheets and clothes next to the bed. He could probably have chosen a less revealing posture for it, but his ass was one of his greatest assets, so why not flaunt a little when he had the chance? He was stark naked - he always slept in the raw - so everything was perfectly on display. After a bit of fumbling, he found the phone under the pile of discarded blankets, although it wasn't ringing anymore. "Here! There you go," he handed the phone, now silent, to Yuuri, "sorry, I think they hung up."

Yuuri made a small noise that sounded like a "thanks", although he couldn't tell for sure. Victor smiled at him. He wanted to make conversation, but before he could say anything, a known melody started ringing.

"That's mine!" He quickly looked in the direction where the sound was coming and found his phone resting on the bed. He took a look at the caller ID on the screen. "Oh, it's Yakov…" His coach only ever called him when he was angry at him - which he probably was, all things considered - and Victor didn't really feel like dealing with him so early in the morning, so he rejected the call and looked at Yuuri once more. Yuuri held his gaze for a moment, then averted his eyes, seemingly scanning the room. He looked nervous and Victor wasn't entirely sure why. He hadn't seemed shy at all at the banquet. Perhaps he just wasn't used to this kind of situation? Well, it wasn't like Victor was, so he could relate. The last time he had woken up next to another man had been… Victor wasn't sure exactly how long, but at least 3 or 4 years ago, probably.

When Victor was in his very early twenties, for a couple of years he had gone through what Chris liked to call his "slutty phase". In Victor's opinion, the name was a bit exaggerated - he hadn't taken that many men to bed - but he guessed it conveyed that part of his life well enough. Indeed, during that time he had had sex with almost every men that showed interest, as long as they were attractive and seemed discreet enough.  It had been fun for a while, he had always known he was good looking - people called him pretty as a boy and handsome when he became a full grown adult, and his skating was often described as beautiful - but it was thrilling to discover that a particular person, someone that Victor was attracted to, wanted him. Or at least, it had been until he got bored of it. Sex felt good, but that was all there ever was to it. There was never any emotion, and at the end, it only left him feeling empty inside. He wanted a connection, but nobody was interested in him beyond his body and his medals. Even the very few who tried to know him better ended up finding he wasn't very interesting after all, too invested in his skating career and not invested enough in everything else. Sooner or later, they all got bored of him, and eventually, Victor had stopped trying as well.

In any case, the guys he had slept with usually left the room right after doing the deed, and on the rare occasions when they stayed the night, they left the next morning without saying much. Victor had never been in a situation like the present one, and he didn't know what was the protocol. He wanted Yuuri to feel at ease, but he wasn't sure how to help with that. Just as he was pondering this, the phone on Yuuri's hand started ringing again, making him yelp and almost drop it. Adorable.

"Go ahead, take it," It would be better to give Yuuri some privacy to talk and Victor really wanted a shower, so he went to his suitcase, which was open next to the bed, and quickly picked up some clothes before heading to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and turned on the water, quickly getting under it to muffle the sound of Yuuri's voice. He wouldn't deny he was a bit curious about who was calling Yuuri and what they were talking about - he was very curious about anything to do with Yuuri - but he didn't want to eavesdrop, not even by accident. If Yuuri wanted to, he could tell Victor all about the conversation later. He hoped they could talk about that, and many other things. Their relationship had just started, after all.

Victor couldn't help but smile as he recalled the events of the previous night. Yuuri had surprised him, and everyone else in the room, by breaking into a complex and dynamic dance without any prompting, visibly very drunk but somehow still capable of quite impressive moves. Someone, Victor couldn't recall who, had dared Yuri to a dance-off with him, calling it a Yuuri vs Yuri. Yuri had been furious, of course, but being as competitive and he was, he ended up giving it his all, with amusing results. Victor had taken lots of pictures and even a couple of videos to preserve the moment. It wasn't every day that he got to see Yuri so into something - he always seemed unmotivated at practice, probably due to having no real competency in the junior division - and Yuuri's skills were truly amazing to witness. He had seen people getting drunk and dancing in previous banquets, but never so wildly, and Yuuri was spectacularly good. It had been so much fun!

Then, Chris, who never missed a chance to show off, decided to join the fun and challenged Yuuri to a pole dance battle. Victor knew Chris was very good at it, but discovering that Yuuri was even better had been the most pleasant surprise. Victor was aware that he had an excellent sense of rhythm - better than most skaters, which was saying something - but the times Victor had watched him compete, Yuuri had been graceful, almost delicate, on the ice. However, twisting around the pole he was pure eroticism, full of confidence. Not only he had good technique - Victor was dying to know how exactly had he gotten that good - but he was an amazing performer as well. Yuuri was beautiful, enthralling and mysterious. Seeing him cling to the pole half-naked made Victor's body react in a way that no other man had managed to in a very long time. Chris' skills were excellent too and  Victor enjoyed watching him as well, but he didn't make Victor's stomach jump a backflip, didn't take all the blood from his brain and directed it somewhere else.

While Victor was still in a daze, Yuuri had jumped off the pole, having been proclaimed the winner by a small margin, and threw himself into Victor's arms, still half naked. He spoke in Japanese, so Victor didn't know what he had been saying in that moment, but he had ground on him with very little subtlety and the one thing he had said in English was burned into Victor's memory.

"Be my coach, Victor!"

Victor didn't know how to convey in words everything that sentence had made him feel. He would turn 27 in two weeks, so of course, everybody was asking what he planned to do in the near future. Certainly, many good athletes had retired at younger ages, so it wouldn't be entirely surprising if he did after this season. After all, many believed that it was better to retire triumphally when one was at the peak of their career, rather than waiting too long and ending up having to go in shame. Victor was indeed in his best moment: he had won every single competition he had entered the past 4 seasons, and his winning streak had carried on to the current one. On the other hand, he knew his fans would be devastated if he retired now when he was still in good health and could keep creating programs for a couple years more. Or could he? When he was younger, he used to make people gasp whenever he tried something new, but that had been long ago. Now, nobody gasped anymore. There were less and less new things to try, because Victor had mastered all five currently ratified quads - he had been the first person ever to land a quad flip in competition, to add three quads in a program, and then to add four - had attempted the hardest combinations, had choreographed and skated for music of almost every possible genre. And every time, with hard work, he had succeeded, and he had won. People were used to his excellence. They expected him to land the jumps, to perfectly execute the step sequence. They expected him to keep delivering surprises, to the point that nothing he could think of would a surprise anymore. He could land a quad axel tomorrow and probably nobody would even beat an eye.

He was an actor, an entertainer, and he had become boring.

The audience had always been his priority, but he wasn't sure he could be what people wanted anymore, and he didn't think he had any desire for it either. Winning used to make him happy but now, just like sex, only made him feel empty. Victor had always believed he could only find new strength on his own, but it seemed he had none of it left. He was still the best skater in the world according to all experts, but he felt weak and lost.

Yuuri's words had given him a new perspective that he hadn't considered before. Sure, many people expected him to eventually become a coach, but Yuuri had been the first to ask, to actually offer him the possibility. Yuuri had asked Victor to inspire him, not just as a skater but as a person, as a teacher. He had made Victor feel as if he still had more inspiration left to share.

And not only that. Yuuri had turned Victor's world upside down, both professionally and personally. He had made Victor feel truly wanted for himself, not just the facade he put for the public. Many men had tried to seduce him before, but none quite as enthusiastically and honestly as Yuuri. It had been so much fun, dancing together. Yuuri had immediately taken the leading role, and Victor found that he made following easy and natural so he barely had to think about what steps to take at all. For a while, Victor completely forgot that there were people watching. For the first time in his life, he didn't care about putting a good performance or entertaining the audience. He didn't care about winning, in fact, he forgot they were supposedly having a dance-off. The only thing he could think about was how much he was enjoying himself, how fun and full of life Yuuri was.

Yuuri had won their dance-off, just like he had triumphed over both Yuri and Chris, and then someone had suggested that Victor should take his revenge on a drinking match. It had seemed unfair at first, Yuuri had already drunk quite a lot, but since Yuuri himself was all for it, Victor was quickly convinced. After that, his recollection of the night got a bit blurrier, although some details were burned into his memory. He remembered kissing, lots and lots of it, Yuuri's arms - lean but strong - loosely wrapped around his neck. Yuuri's smile all wide and silly, and his cute giggles. The way he pronounced Victor's name like it was the most important word in the world. He remembered Yuuri saying "I love you", all slurred and full of enthusiasm. It had been the first time someone outside of his family had said those words to him without actually meaning "I love the way you skate", and it wasn't like his family told him that very often either. Victor had reciprocated in kind, and he had meant it. Truly, Victor had never been in love, but this feeling seemed close to what he had seen in movies and romance novels. He understood that he barely knew Yuuri and they both had been really drunk, but so what? Yuuri was beautiful and made him feel alive and that was more than enough.

Just as he finished drying himself with a towel, he heard a scream coming from the room. Quickly putting on the t-shirt and the thong he had taken to the bathroom with him, he rushed out, worried that Yuuri might have accidentally hurt himself.

Yuuri was sitting on the bed, pale as a sheet but seemingly unharmed. "Um, are you okay?" Victor asked. Maybe Yuuri had seen a spider? He hoped that wasn't the case, Victor wasn't a fan of arachnids either.

"No! I, we, last night," Yuuri stammered, visibly agitated, "look!" He shoved his phone into Victor's hands. The Instagram app was opened on it, displaying a picture of Yuuri and Victor the previous night, both showing ample smiles, with the caption "just married!!!!" and lots of emoticons, some of them seemingly nonsensical. He briefly scrolled down the other posted pictures, all of them in the same fashion. 

"Haha, yeah I guess we did get married," He replied dumbly, unsure of what to say.

Yuuri looked at him with wide eyes and a horrified expression. "You guess?!" He squeaked, and covered his mouth immediately after. He was obviously alarmed, although Victor couldn't entirely understand why. Well, it was true that essentially eloping in the middle of the night and posting pictures in their public accounts with thousands of followers hadn't been the smartest decision in regards to their public images. It would probably cause quite a stir, so he guessed it made sense that Yuuri was worried about that. There was probably legal stuff to consider too, which would be a pain.

"Don't worry, Yakov knows good lawyers and my agent is excellent at her job," Victor tried to sound reassuring, "this might hurt our public image, but they'll know how to deal with it." Victor had always trusted Anna when it came to handling the press, she was very good at dealing with them and creating a suitable public persona for Victor while being flexible and receptive to his personal desires whenever he expressed them. Regarding the paperwork, he would trust whatever lawyers Yakov hired. He had a vague memory of signing something the previous night, but he wasn't sure what they were about. He wondered if one of them would need to take the other's surname, or maybe they could combine it? Taking the spouse's surname wasn't mandatory in Russia - although many couples did it - but he didn't know how it worked in Japan. Victor wouldn't terribly mind changing his surname, although that would surely piss Yakov off. Oh well, he was probably quite furious as it was. Victor's relationship with the Russian skating federation wasn't what one would call amicable, they had to tolerate him, of course, he was the best skater in Russia, not to mention the entire world, but they believed him to be too carefree, too concerned with his creative freedom over bringing pride and glory to his country. Yakov always needed to be very smooth and careful so Victor wouldn't offend them enough to withdraw their support. They would be extremely annoyed about him marrying a rival without even letting them know beforehand, so he could imagine Yakov's job had just gotten harder. Victor's fans wouldn't be too happy either, him marrying ruined his image of "sexiest bachelor in the skating world", although he hoped they liked his skating enough to keep supporting him anyway. That might make him lose some of his sponsors too, but he didn't care about that, he would find other ones.

Suddenly, he realized that Yuuri, who hadn't moved from his spot on the edge of the bed, didn't seem to be breathing. His gaze was lost, unfocused, and he looked absolutely terrified. Oh, well, damn. Victor tried to think of a way to calm him down, although he still wasn't sure why Yuuri was panicking like that. He could only guess that he was worried about all the things Victor himself had just been thinking about, although they obviously affected Yuuri more than him. In any case, it didn't really matter, he was clearly upset and Victor wanted to help.

He kneeled in front of Yuuri and, slowly, put a hand on his shoulder, trying to not startle him. Physical contact always helped him when he was upset or felt lost, perhaps it would help Yuuri too. "Yuuri," he said softly, "breathe, it's gonna be alright." He took deep, even breaths in and out in the hope that it would help Yuuri to breathe as well. Truth was, he had no idea what he was doing or what he was supposed to do, but it would do no good if he got nervous as well, so he tried to stay calm.

Yuuri started breathing with him, and he got some color to his face, but he was still tense, his shoulder below Victor's hand completely stiff. "How can you be so calm?" He asked.

Victor smiled at him. "Well, I just woke up and I'm married to a real cutie, so I'd say I've had worse mornings!" He winked playfully, trying to defuse the situation. "I don't remember all of last night very clearly," he confessed, sitting on the bed and putting an arm around Yuuri's shoulders, "but I do recall having a lot of fun, so no regrets!" He gave Yuuri a light squeeze. It was the honest truth, he didn't regret the previous night at all. Maybe marrying just a few hours after meeting had been a bit rushed and posting the pictures online could cause a scandal but so what? It had been the best night of his life, he would deal with the consequences later. He had Anna and Yakov to help him with that. Yuuri looked at his hand, and then directly into his eyes. Oh, he was so handsome. How could Victor be anything but happy about being married to him? However, it was true that everything had happened too fast. Now that they were both sober, there was a lot he wanted to talk about. He wanted to learn everything there was to know about Yuuri.

Suddenly, Yuuri let out a high-pitched scream and jumped from the bed and all across the room.

"Where are you going?" Victor asked, confused.

"I, uh, shower!" Yuuri exclaimed. "I should take a shower, and get dressed." He paused for a second. "In my own room."

Victor couldn't entirely hide his disappointment that Yuuri seemed so eager to get away from him. He had been so affectionate and enthusiastic the previous night, and Victor failed to understand why he was now so tense and cold around him. Perhaps he just needed some time for himself? He was about to ask Yuuri if they could meet after he had his shower, perhaps for breakfast, when a loud knock on the door interrupted him.

"Victor Nikiforov!" Yelled a familiar voice, "Get out immediately, I know you're there!"

"Yakov," Victor said under his breath, getting up. His coach was speaking in English, which was unusual when talking to one of his pupils, so he probably knew Yuuri was there, or expected him to be at least. "Give me a second!" He sing-songed in a loud voice and approached Yuuri. "I'll deal with him," He purposely hushed his tone so Yakov wouldn't hear. "You should hide, he'll yell at you if he sees you." He grabbed Yuuri's wrist and gently guided him away from the room's door. Yakov could be pretty scary when he was angry and Yuuri seemed quite nervous already. "Go take that shower, you can use this bathroom."

"But my clothes," Yuuri protested.

"Right," That was indeed a good point but fortunately Victor never packed light when he traveled. He rummaged through his luggage, trying to find something he could lend to Yuuri, whose frame was a bit thinner than Victor, especially on the shoulders. He settled on a tracksuit and the smallest t-shirt he had brought with him. "Try this, I think they'll fit you." He forced the bundle of clothes into Yuuri's arms and gently pushed him towards the bathroom. "Take your time, I'll be waiting." He assured, winking at Yuuri and offering a big smile before closing the bathroom door.

With Yuuri safely out of the way, Victor took a deep breath and opened the front door. "Good morning Yakov!" He greeted in Russian, as cheerful as he could.

"If you're trying to charm me with that flashing smile of yours, it's not going to work and you should know that already," Yakov barked, "let me in."

Victor stepped aside. He knew Yakov was about to yell at him, so it was better to avoid the whole hall listening in. Yakov was probably thinking the same because he waited until he was inside with the door close before starting the scolding session.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" His face was already quite red from fury, and Victor briefly wondered if he was taking his blood pressure medication like the doctor had told him to - although Victor wasn't supposed to know about that. He missed Lilia sometimes, the way she managed to force Yakov into taking care of himself when nobody else could.

"Aw, is that how you congratulate your dear pupil on his wedding?" He replied, still smiling. It would do Yakov no harm to take it with a bit of humor.

"Vitya, you better be taking this seriously," Yakov took a step closer to him, his tone stern and still quite loud, "what were you even thinking?" Before Victor even opened his mouth, he continued, "no, don't answer, I don't really want to know." He pressed his fingers against his temple, as if just talking to Victor was giving him a headache. "I've never told you who to sleep with or not, but I thought you'd know better than to be so imprudent, after all this time!"

"Come on, it's not that bad,"

"Not that bad?!" Yakov looked like he was about to burst a vessel.

"Yakov, I know it's called ‘men's singles' but that doesn't mean we have to remain as bachelors for our entire careers," he joked, "there are a few other skaters still in competition who are married."

"Yes, but they didn't marry a direct competitor out of the blue, nor posted the pictures on the Internet for everyone to see, did they?" He snapped, "Half of the world must have seen them by now! All your sponsors, the media and probably the judges too! Some fans were rioting on the hotel lobby earlier, we had to call security. You should be glad at least they're not as bad as Yura's." That was true, Yuri's Angels were a force to reckon with. "Anyway," Yakov continued, seemingly calming down a little, "Anna wants to talk to the both of you about this."

"Okay,"  Victor was expecting this, his agent, who had accompanied them to the GPF as she did in most big competitions, was constantly checking all mentions of him in social media and she was very quick to react to any potential scandals. She probably already had a plan in mind to minimize the impact on their images.

"You better listen to what she has to say,"

"Don't I always?" Victor shrugged. For most of his life, he had focused only in skating, leaving his image to other people. In general terms, Anna guided him with what to say in interviews, how much to smile, and what kind of pictures to upload on his social media, as well as what were the best sponsors for him, what brands to model for, etc. It made things easier for him, just having to interpret a role. He was good at that. When it came to Yuuri, however, he wasn't sure he wanted to act, but he wasn't sure how to be himself either.

"I also called a couple of lawyers," Yakov added. Victor was also expecting this. "On the phone, they said it might be possible to just nullify this, or that it not might be even legal. Apparently only a couple of places have the license to marry people in the middle of the night."

This, Victor did not expect. He didn't want to not be married to Yuuri. "Nullify it?" He repeated, frowning.

"Because you were drunk," Yakov explained, otherwise, you wouldn't have done it. But first, we need to find whatever damned papers you signed," He got further into the room and started looking around, probably searching for said documents.

Victor hesitated. He hadn't even considered that their marriage might not be valid in the first place. He didn't recall the wedding itself all too clearly, so he couldn't be sure of its legitimacy. He remembered saying "I do", and signing some papers, but it was all blurred and he didn't know what papers he had signed. He wasn't very sure about where the wedding had taken place and he had no clue how he had gotten there in the first place. There was indeed a chance that the marriage wasn't even legal and, he had to admit, that would be pretty disappointing.

"Vitya, help me already," Yakov urged, already going through the drawers in one of the nightstands.

Reluctantly, he grabbed the sheets and threw them on the bed to try and see if there would be something underneath. After all, it was better to know what had happened for sure than staying with the doubt. As it turned out, there was indeed a bundle of papers on the floor, just where the blankets had been a second ago. "I think I found it," He announced, picking the documents from the floor. Surely, the heading read "Certificate of Marriage".

"Let me see," Yakov approached him with quick steps and looked at the papers over Victor's shoulder. Over the corner of his eye, Victor saw him frown, his jaw tensing. "I'm not an expert so we'll need to hear what the lawyers think. Where's that boy, Katsuki?" He asked, pronouncing the last word as if just thinking about Yuuri was unpleasant.

"In the shower," Victor answered, "and it's Katsuki-Nikiforov now, according to this,"

"You better hope it's not valid," Yakov barked, and snatched the marriage license from his hands, "this could be the end of your career and you're acting like you're not even aware of that!"

That made Victor laugh. "It won't be the end of my career," he replied. At least, the marriage wouldn't. "You're exaggerating, Yakov."

"We'll see about that," Yakov grunted. He looked at his watch. "Anyway, we're leaving as soon as he gets out. We're meeting Anna and the lawyers in 40 minutes at a cafe in the city center, it's not a good idea to talk in the hotel's restaurant since we don't know who might be listening."

Suddenly, they heard the lock on the bathroom's door turn. Very slowly, the door opened and Yuuri appeared behind it.

"Ummm," He was looking at the floor, his hand still on the knob, hanging onto it as if he needed it for moral support. He looked extremely cute in Victor's clothes.

Yakov gave him a long, hard look, "We're meeting with Vitya's agent and some lawyers to fix this mess, call your coach and tell him to come too," he instructed in English, all rough and hard. Victor nodded. It was a good idea to have someone Yuuri was familiar with, considering how anxious he had seemed a few moments ago. Besides, he liked Celestino, he was always nice to talk to at banquets, although they didn't know each other very well. He seemed much more easygoing than Yakov too, and probably not as fatalistic, so it was a good addition. "I need to check on Yura and Mila, be ready in ten minutes by the elevators," He added, turning to Victor this time.

"Yes, sir!" Victor exclaimed cheerfully. Yakov shot him one last look before leaving, closing the door with a slam. Victor approached Yuuri. "Don't mind him, he's just an old grump," he said, smiling. "Are you hungry?" He changed the subject, trying to defuse the tension.

"A little bit, yes," Yuuri replied, fidgeting with the hem of the t-shirt.

"Good! We can have breakfast while talking," he chirped, "do you like crepes?"

"I prefer salty food, actually," Yuuri confessed. Victor, excited to finally be making conversation, was about to ask what was his favorite dish, but Yuuri started walking towards the bed, where his phone was. "I should call my coach," he said.

"Right, I should get ready too," His hair was still wet, if he let it dry like that instead of blowing it, it would be impossible to tame. Not to mention it would get frozen considering it was snowing outside.

Yuuri grabbed his phone, but just stood there looking at it for a few seconds, instead of calling. He had looked a bit better after the shower, but he was quite pale again.

"Don't worry, Yuuri," Victor said, getting closer to him, "the media can be a pain sometimes and some judges probably won't like this, but we're in this together, ok?"

For the first time since he had stepped out of the bathroom, Yuuri looked directly at him. He had a very strange expression, a mixture of surprise and something else that Victor couldn't read at all.

"Ok, Victor," He said, using his name for the first time in all morning. Oh, Victor really liked how it sounded in his voice. He would prefer Yuuri to use Vitya, his formal name was too stiff and distant, but they would get there. They had plenty of time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarification, in chapters from now on the story will advance. There will be different POVs, but each event will be told from one POV only. I don't plan to write the same chapter from another perspective again because tbh it was a pain haha although in this case it was necessary!  
> As usual, all kinds of comments and concrit are welcomed!! This chapter didn't advance the plot too much, but I felt it was very important to know what Vitya has been thinking so far.  
> Next chapter will have more plot, more juicy bits and a stellar appearance by our favorite mature eros skater :3  
> If you want to know more about me, see previews and scream to me about losers in love, please feel free to check my twitter @idrinkmyfriends or my tumblr @guety


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